


stupid OXFORD definitions

by numbateme



Series: super RICH kids [1]
Category: Gossip Girl, One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Classical Music, Designer Labels, Donatella, Drarry, Fanart, Fast Cars, Gossip Girl References, Harry Potter References, Ivy League, M/M, Money, New Romantics, Smut, Snobs, Super Rich Kids, Tennis, Tomorrowland, Torture, keeping up with the joneses, potterhead, small caps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 73
Words: 266,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbateme/pseuds/numbateme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>super rich kids with nothing but loose ends,<br/>super rich kids with nothing but fake friends.</p><p>everything is a lie in the wealthy world of the Harry Styles!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry & mckenzie get a shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fanfic shall be written in small caps.... it's a new writing form i've decided to try out and see how it goes. flow with me

> "fuck frank ocean," niall screams to the skies.  
>    
>  "he doesn't know our life," gigi huffs. and taylor adds, "he wishes he was us."  
>    
>  "maybe he does," harry murmurs.  
>    
>  "he does," liam agrees.  
>    
>  zayn points his middle fingers at louis and harry. "fuck you both!" 

>   
>  _**super rich kids with nothing but fake friends**_

 

**=          =         =         =**

 

harry styles is in the kitchen finishing off his breakfast. the sun rays illuminate all the white surface of the kitchen counter, the fridge, walls and the floor to even be whiter. near the window is his mother, busy texting on her iphone 8s+. he opens his mouth to speak to her but shuts it – what is he to say anyway?

they are not a close-knit family like the rest of britain nor do they sit down at the table like all families do. he does not know where his father is because he is always traveling his mother is always on her phone or out drinking champagne with her drunken, single friends. she regrets marrying his father and having a child too early – way too early even though she is 46 years old.

so what happens? harry’s life schedule is practically the same: school and home; his extracurricular activities are parties, girlfriends and other snobby activities that he does not mind doing. not forgetting applying for ivy leagues…

yes his girlfriend, taylor waldorf, is something he considers an activity! she is some piece of work really. i mean going to milan in the spring, la in the summer, jo’burg in christmas, and paris in the new year with his girlfriend year in year out since they were in middle school, it really is. it did not help matters that their parents were really, really good friends and guess what, those ladies harry’s mother goes drinking champagne with? taylor’s mother, eleanor is one of them.

friends? ha! nothing to say about them. they are shitty and superficial. and rich. which he is. he did not like saying it but he lives in a world that money talks and money is the way the world works and that is all he has ever known since growing up. money, money, money. money was everything, and everything is money. those are the rules.

“i have to go to school,” harry says out loud but to no one in particular. one of the maids rushes in to the kitchen and takes away his bowl of breakfast and his glass of juice. “thank you.”

“don’t harry, i’ve warned you so many times,” anne huffs, her fingers tapping her phone.

“sorry,” he murmurs rolling his eyes. he stands up and his mother has not budged. he is tempted to wish her a good day but shakes his head and heads out for the door.

“aim for the ivy leagues!”

“whatever,” he murmurs. he walks down the stairs of his mansion and enters the back of the black, sleek car with his chauffeur waiting inside.

at school, he meets up with zayn and his girlfriend, gigi, in the parking lot. it is habit really, they do not do much in the parking lot at 7:35am but it is to pass time until 8 o’clock.

he walks to zayn’s car and meets gigi halfway talking about something that happened last night. “…so then maggie was like running out the house and like she fell down, her ass in the air, and like her brother runs after her in like only his boxers and guess what?”

“what girlfriend?” zayn asks.

harry zones and just, well, stares at people driving, walking, cycling and whatever into school with nothing much holding down their shoulders. like this kid who walks in with just his skateboard, jet black hair with far too much gel and oh gosh, what are those on his feet? _slippers?_ since when are slippers in fashion?

finally the bell rings and he walks behind zayn and gigi, his eyes darting to other people in his school. lately his mind had been somewhere else – he had been thinking, of course about ivy leagues, but mainly about his friends, about _real love_. what zayn and niall (his other super rich friends) were to him is not real, not friendship with love but convenience. the three of them were super rich kids (niall the richest out of the three of them) so obviously they would be together, they spent their weekends together ever since he can remember, they dated the same girls which was sad because…

“harry!” gigi calls and he looks at her.

“what?”

“you coming?” she asks flashing her brown eyes on him. he nods and they head to their homeroom class. “you know what i think? blue is not a color for the middle-class and below.”

“why girlfriend?”

“where is taylor? harry asks before gigi replies to zayn’s question. she tells him that she went with niall to vienna for the new years.

“together?” he asks, unfazed. he is not bothered because they have a lot of history, harry and taylor. at first, harry and mckenzie used to date, niall was with taylor and zayn was, well, taylor waldorf. beginning of high school, niall was with taylor, harry was with kendall and zayn with mckenzie. and now? harry is with taylor, zayn with gigi and niall with brittany.

“yeah something about flights being cancelled cause of weather of some shit,” zayn shrugs.

“sure,” he mums, looking around his class. it was the new year, and he wants to see who is in his class. one by one, he looks at the new kids in class, with gigi talking in the background to zayn, harry sighs because why is there no one interesting coming to their class.

“liam!” gigi shrieks, standing up and jogging to him.

“babe! i missed you,” liam smiles. harry liked liam. genuinely liked him. why? well, he did not vomit in his face, or laugh in his face, or humiliate him in front of the whole school in 2013 when he said he is gay, or rather bisexual. liam is the only one who was cool with it and treated him like it did not matter he fancied men too.

“come sit,” gigi cheers, pulling liam to a seat, “and tell us all about your christmas trip to chicago.”

“it was a bore,” liam sighs, but in a playful manner. “like the whole time my dad was just droning about how we should not be eating turkey for christmas because it is an american thing but my mom ignored him because she is, get this, on the roof with these reindeers with christmas lights and everything and she trips and falls off the roof. but get this, she doesn’t actually fall, she flies down.”

“your mother is a daring woman!” gigi giggles.

“that she is for sure! that’s why she is my mom,” liam winks.

the teacher walks in and introduces himself as mr sprite who will be their homeroom teacher. not much happens for an hour, apart from harry listening to zayn whisper sweet nothings to gigi all through the lesson. finally the bell rings and mr sprite comes round handing out the class schedules for each of them.

“maths?” harry groans. “maths!?”

turning around in his seat, liam smiles, “i have maths too.”

i smile and we both head to our classes. i plop down on my seat, liam going on about his christmas dinner with his family in chicago (again) and harry zones out. or more like stares at the brown-haired boy entering his class, with a tank top and a silver adidas jacket.

his eyes do not leave the boy even as he makes his way to his seat and takes out his book from his vans bag.what is this boy? he has shriveled, uncombed hair, an _adidas jacket_ in the middle of january, sport shoes on his feet, damn ripped skinny jeans and is that him with bracelets around his arms? and he has tattoos as well?

“who are you looking at so hard?” liam wonders, looking into the direction harry’s green eyes were locked. “ah, louis.”

“louis?” harry frowns. “what kind of name is that?”

“stop,” liam chuckles, elbowing him. “he’s good.”

“poor is more like it. who the hell wears brands from the top to bottom, and even walks out of the house like that?”

“you’re unbelievable,” liam laughs. harry just rolls his eyes and continues to listen to the teacher. he is glad though that he has liam in his class and not his _other rich friends_ because all they do is skip class, talk in class, fuck in class and get fs and it does not mean anything to them because they have companies to take over once they are out.

do not get harry wrong, he does too. his future is set: graduate high school with nothing but as, get into ivy league (preferably yale or harvard), and work in his father’s company until he rots in the c.e.o chair. sometimes he just wants to not care about his grades but he has to, or he could end up like his sister gemma.

“harry!” liam snaps in his face. “you okay? you’ve been out of yourself lately.”

“applying to american colleges are harder than it looks,” harry tells him. “way too hard.”

“why are you applying anyway?” zayn asks, sitting with them at the lunch table. even though they were rich, and could eat lunch outside the school, there was a new rule that nobody could drive off the premises during school hours since in the past most would not come back to school after lunch.

“because i want to actually get an education.”

“you have high school,” zayn tells him. he plants a kiss on gigi’s small lips. harry does not reply and shoots liam a glance, the _let’s get out of here_ glance. liam nods and they both stand up, zayn and gigi not bothering about them leaving and they both walk to the football pitch.

harry loves the football pitch. not because he secretly loves football and wishes he could play but because gets to be free _off_ his friends. free of his girlfriend taylor, zayn and gigi love thrills, mckenzie, chuck, his parents, school, applying for ivy leagues, heck even the superficial conversations he has with every single person he meets.

“what is it mate?” liam asks. the both of them are seated on the bleachers watching the football team warm up. “i can tell something is bothering you.”

“ivy leagues are hard.”

“it’s not ivy leagues mate, it’s something else. and don’t give me the crap about knowing taylor is cheating on you with niall.”

“how did you know?”

“the whole school knows mate,” liam shrugs. “it’s pretty obvious too. they are both in vienna still and it’s the end of january.”

“you know about me and her,” harry speaks slowly, his eyes not leaving the football pitch.

“and i know too yet i’m still here,” liam tells him softly. “i’m not leaving you harry, not now not ever and i won’t do anything that will hurt you.” he adds chuckling, “on purpose.”

“dick,” harry chuckles too. “one word to my mother about my rooftop incident last year and i’m dead liam. i’m cut off, i say goodbye to my future, i say goodbye to who i am basically.”

“you mean end up like your sister?” liam questions. harry frowns.

“hey guys!” the two lads turn their heads to see mckenzie walking up the benches. she sits in front of them. “did you hear?”

“what?” liam asks.

“fucking chuck bass broke up with me,” she laments. “just because i was cheating on him with niall so he thinks he can dump me. but i will get back at him. oh you watch me.”

“what exactly will you do?” liam asks.

“i know it was that stuck up girlfriend of yours harry that told chuck i was cheating but fook her, you know,” mckenzie continues. “i’m going to make sure taylor, chuck and niall wish they were never born. do you know why they didn’t come to school today?”

“why?” harry asks, now interested in the conversation. mckenzie’s lips tug upwards mischievously and she darts her eyes between the two boys.

“well gigi lied to you, she is in on this. this morning gigi went over to taylor’s house so they could go last minute shopping for school,” she tells them. “and without me no doubt. but when she got there she saw niall and her on the bed, fooking each other’s brains out.”

“you’re lying!” liam exclaims.

“and you know what a loud mouth gigi is? she told the whole school about it i’m sure so that’s why they couldn’t come. but that’s not _my_ plan. my plan is to catch them fucking on video.”

“and then what mckenzie?” harry asks. “what will you do that video? taylor will just get you expelled for who knows how and niall doesn’t care if he leaves the school or not.”

“so naïve harry,” mckenzie says, flipping hair off her shoulders. “i don’t know why you put up with that bitch.”

liam agrees, “same!”

“screw both of you,” he says, flipping the middle finger at them. liam laughs and mckenzie smiles. they secretly love this careless, playful attitude of harry, not the rich, asshole harry but where money walks, so does the attitude.

“just break up with that asshole of taylor!”

“what i keep saying,” liam shrugs.

“i mean, you broke up with me so why not her?” mckenzie reasons.

harry gets up and the other two follow, “i’ll do that when i want to go to prison.”

the afternoon ends quickly thankfully and he is out of school walking quickly. mckenzie calls after him and he stops by his land cruiser. his chauffeur gets out of his car and runs to the side, holding open the door for him.

“let’s go for a drive,” she tells him.

“don’t want to,” harry tells her, slightly irritated. she nevertheless enters and harry smirks. harry loved mckenzie because she was fearless and defenseless and did not take crap from anyone. also, she was smoking hot!

“where are we going?” he asks her, a little intrigued. from time to time, mckenzie would randomly enter his car and they would go for “drives” – mostly adventures of her chasing down people she did not like which was usually, or random guilty pleasure like the pizza joints or frozen yoghurt, or the plain old egging cars and houses. these were stupid, harry admits, but they are always refreshing to his otherwise mundane routine.

“where to today?” harry wonders.

“your house first!” mckenzie grins.

the two of them are best friends ever since their break up in middle school. don’t get harry wrong, liam is his first best friend but mckenzie was more than what liam is. and after mckenzie one night rang his doorbell because her father got drunk and was violent (and his mother was doing nothing about it), harry comforted her as much as he could and assured her that she was welcome to his house, whether he was in or not. so much so the maids even knew her by name.

“welcome mckenzie,” the butler smiles, upon seeing her walk up to the door.

“hello james,” she winks. “good to see yah. how’s the wife doing? is she getting better?”

“she is thank you for asking,” he nods. harry comes into view and he returns to his serious mode. “sir.”

harry nods, walking past him without a word just in case his mother hears him thanking the _staff_. again. they make their way upstairs, walking past white walls with priceless paintings on the walls flown from all around the world. she turns left and walks into “her” room – her room because of the time she spends at harry’s house, he decided to just let her have a room of her own. plus it is not like they were running out of rooms in this mansion!

harry plops on the bed, as mckenzie runs the shower. “are you ever going to stop buying apple shampoo?”

“no,” harry says loud enough for mckenzie to hear. “plus i’m not the one who does shopping.”

“you should start,” mckenzie says, emerging out of the bathroom in her birthday suit. no it was not weird that she, again and again, would shower and come out naked. not weird at all.

“we have towels k,” he sighs. his eyes gaze at her naked body up and down. “did you get a brazilian? actually i don’t care why because you have stupid reason for it. can we go for a pedi after your adventure?”

“your foot fetish still freaks me out,” she smirks. she is getting dressed. “but i love it because i get a plus one to come with me. and maybe one day you will have a mani with me.”

“feet are the only part of my body nobody ever sees,” he says. he heaves a sigh of happiness because finally mckenzie is dressed and ready to go wherever they are going. he is pretty excited actually.

“the only part?”

“the only part.”

“how do you have sex then?” she wonders, following harry down the stairs.

“not answering.”

“c’mon! i mean when you’re finally both on the bed because you two are boring during sex and can’t have it in any other place other than a bed, what do you do? because obviously she would want you to be completely naked,” mckenzie drones. “which is pretty boring because sex with clothes on is just as fun.”

“won’t be home for dinner,” harry tells the maid waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“very well, sir.”

“we will be home for dinner samantha,” mckenzie cheers. finally, the adventurous adventures begin and they head of to what looks like niall’s grand mansion. harry keeps mum in the back of his car with mckenzie looking like she is about to burst into happiness. he knows by now he cannot ask what the plan is because mckenzie will remain quiet in her seat, “it’s part of the fun”, she would always tell him.

“get out!” she says once the driver parks in front of niall’s blue mansion. “follow me.” they run around the house instead of using the front door. mckenzie knocks on the back door and a maid dressed in blue opens it.

“may i help you?” she inquires.

“yes, we’re here to see taylor,” she says in her sweetest, non-bitchy voice. “and could you not tell her we’re here?”

“yes ma’am,” she says. she bows her head as they pass by. she is practically running up the stairs and harry frowns a little at how _well_ she knows niall’s house. she stops at a blue door and turns on her heels. she holds harry by the shoulders and tells him to not be scared, or panic.

“why would i panic?” he asks. “do you have a dead body in there?”

“what?” she mumbles. “no. just that i didn’t want you to find out this way but i can’t keep watching you die a little bit every day inside.”

“what are you talking about?”

“liam told me about you being half gay,” she says, murmuring the words “half gay”. she cuts harry off and continues, “and how you told taylor and she didn’t take it well and she is somehow holding knowing your secret over your head. but that’s about to end right now because behind these doors are what you’ve been waiting for to finally end taylor.”

“what’s behind the door?”

“it’s been going on since christmas and—”

“what the fuck is behind the door k?” he violently asks.

“best you see it yourself,” she says and opens the door. harry eyes are fixated on the door but as soon as it opens they move across the room. they fall on the figures on the bed. one end he sees his girlfriend taylor, naked with her ass sticking in the air. near the bed post is niall’s naked irish body with an erect penis. and in the middle of these two bodies is…

“what the fuck?” harry yells. “a goat?!”


	2. 0.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry seeks revenge....

“i am not going to take anyone’s crap this year,” mrs maths screams to her english class, “not again. last year you drove me into high blood pressure and hospitalized me for 2 weeks. two weeks but not this year! not again.”

“as if,” zayn chortles. “we can easily do it again.”

“this semester i am putting five people in a group to write me a beautiful, exquisite gazette of 16 pages minimum on the school events for the past year,” she announces. “i have assigned your groups and the first group is niall, harry, louis, mckenzie and liam. the second group is zayn, taylor, gigi, chuck…”

“great, i’m with fooking niall,” harry mutters under his breath to mckenzie. “fooking goat fucker.” mckenzie chokes back on a laugh. “is this funny to you?”

“no,” she says, a huge smile on her face. “no it’s not but you gotta admit it was funny seeing the goat lick your girlfriend’s ass.”

“what the fook mckenzie,” he hisses. “and i have to write a stupid paper with a goat fooker?”

“stop saying ‘goat fooker’,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand, muffling her laughter. “i’m going to pee!”

“what was me seeing my best mate and girlfriend and a goat supposed to achieve?”

mckenzie gets serious as louis and liam head to where harry and the rest are seated. “you can now blackmail taylor into doing whatever you want because i’m pretty sure not many people want to know taylor is into goats.”

“who’s into goats?” liam asks, sitting down at their table.

“nobody,” harry murmurs.

“you can tell us,” niall winks. niall is a bit of a dick, if harry is being honest. he was the original fuckboy if there ever was one. a walking, cursing, fuckboy dictionary.

“hi i’m louis,” says the brown-haired boy donned in an adidas shirt. that shirt, harry groans. does he not wear anything else? he wonders.

“and i’m liam,” liam smiles.

“why are we introducing ourselves when we all know who we are?” niall asks. his gaze falls on louis. “apart from this poor cu.msack?”

“hey,” liam calls out on niall. “leave him alone, he’s my friend.” louis shyly smiles. “plus what the actual hell niall, why are you back in school?”

“missed you fookers,” niall chuckles.

“the only thing you fooked was a goat,” mckenzie hisses at niall.

“you’re just mad your boy toy over here,” niall says, his thumb pointing at harry, “is being cheated on by what, the second girlfriend and for the what, thirtieth time?”

“niall shut up, i’m warning you,” harry murmurs. louis feels uncomfortable around the four people arguing about screwing a goat, and which he hopes that he heard wrongly because that would just be…

“what are you going to do?” niall taunts. “your girlfriend has cheated on you for like, the i don’t know how many times because you’re just a pussy to dump her. why? because she knows your bisexual and if your father found out you would be on your one-way ticket to hell. i know you got your rejection letters from brown, stanford, columbia and oxford and what will poor mother say when she knows.”

liam and mckenzie turn to harry because this is not something they knew. niall nevertheless continues, loving the feeling he was giving harry. he goes on and on, reminding harry of the failures, of the things he could not change, the things he could not do because well, he was stuck in a class of money. and harry cannot take it anymore because he had been hearing all about it during the christmas break, into the new year and the whole of january from his parents, and now his friends? great.

“and you know what?” niall whispers, leaning close to harry’s face. “i fooked your girl with a goat and it was good.”

“you’re a scumbag,” louis yells at niall. niall, liam, mckenzie and harry twist their heads to look at louis who had all along been quiet.

“excuse me, _peasant_?”

“you can’t talk to him like that,” louis tells niall in his meanest voice.

“leave it louis,” liam hushes him. “you’re dealing with bad stuff right now.”

“actually,” mrs maths announces, interrupting niall from talking back to louis. “there will be a shift in groups. zayn will now join group one and mckenzie will join group two. while piper will join group nine and jack will join group twelve.”

“ha!” niall snorts as zayn makes way to their table. he turns to harry, “we’re just getting started asshole.”

“you were always a pig niall,” harry says.

“what are we starting?” zayn questions sitting down near liam.

harry makes his way to the front of the class, walking past mckenzie and taylor. niall frowns wondering what harry is doing, zayn looks unfazed and liam worried. louis is simply soaking in all the drama. he walks out and shuts the door, the class returning to normal but with mrs maths running after harry.

“what is he doing?” liam wonders.

“nobody cares asshat,” niall says.

“let’s start,” louis tells them. niall and zayn look at louis as if he has a horn growing on his forehead. “we should probably think about what we want to write in the magazine as well as diving the magazine into sections—”

louis is interrupted by taylor who stands beside niall asking, “what was up with harry? why did he walk out?”

“who cares babe,” niall grunts.

“i do,” taylor says folding her arms across her chest. “last time harry walked out of class, we all got expelled.”

“you guys got expelled?” louis wonders. taylor, zayn and niall gaze at louis with bored eyes and purposely ignore him. liam leans into his ear and whispers to ignore them.

“they are jerks,” he chuckles.

“you’re right but i’m worried about harry,” louis admits. “i mean i don’t know him but he seemed like they were going to do something he regrets.”

“nothing to worry about,” liam reassures him. and himself a little, if he admits. “i think.”

just then, the television in the class turns on and in front is harry styles. the class tones down and gaze up at the television in front of the class listening to what harry is saying. or rather what harry is showing them. the screen turns black and a goat sounds are heard through the speakers. the screen turns on again and in front of the whole school is niall, with his penis inside the goat and the goat’s tongue up taylor’s ass.

“just getting started asshole,” harry growls through the speakers as goat sounds grow louder and louder.


	3. 0.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> liam goes to the tomlinson's for lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> switching to dialogue now and then

**scene 1**

 

_**(louis is in the attic with his sister lottie and stepfather daniel. they are changing the attic into louis’ new bedroom.)** _

**lottie:** _(lifting a cardboard box)_ i don’t see why we need to arrange the attic when louis can comfortably live down in the basement.

 **louis:** i need this attic because the basement is cramped with useless stuff from your childhood stuff that we need to throw away.

 **lottie:** absolutely not!

(liam climbs up to the attic to see them moving around)

 **liam:** hey guys!

 **daniel:** hey liam! finally some muscle up here. these two drag queens can’t move a box to save their lives.

 **lottie:** they only drag queen is lolo here.

 **louis:** shut up!

 **liam:** _(chuckles)_ i brought beer _(holds up a 6-pack of beer)_.

 **daniel:** just what i need.

 **louis:** _(hugs him)_ hey mate!

 **lottie:** _(blushing)_ hi liam.

 **liam:** _(hugs lottie)_ hey guys!

 **lottie:** _(blushing, soft)_ you look good in green you know.

 **louis:** _(rolls eyes)_ stop flirting with him!

 **lottie:** i’m not. _(whispers to louis)_ did you tell him?

 **liam:** tell me what?

 **lottie:** _(panics)_ nothing. nothing at all. _(picks up clothes)_ do you even need all these clothes louis? they’re far too many. you always wear the same blanks jeans and blue tank top year in, year out.

 **louis:** that she has a crush on you.

 **lottie:** _(squeals)_ you told him _(angry, fast)_ you promised you wouldn’t say anything at all. you made a promise.

 **liam:** in your defense, i think you’re pretty _(lottie blushes)_

 **louis:** _(disgust)_ eurgh, she’s 15 liam. gross.

 **liam:** _(chuckles as lottie runs out in embarrassment)_ well it’s the truth.

 **louis:** still gross. so what, you’re going to take her on dates and stuff?

 **liam:** _(lifts the table with louis, walk across the attic)_ the hamptons are really amazing this time of year _(winks)_ she is going to be all over me.

 **louis:** _(sets table down)_ you’re disgusting, honestly. and why the hamptons? i mean, right here in london it’s perfect.

 **liam:** i need to take her somewhere nice mate.

 **louis:** yet you only take me to places that cost literally 10 pounds.

 **liam:** remember last time i suggested i take you somewhere expensive, you took one look at the menu and walked out? _(louis smiles in nostalgia)_ and that was the last time i ever did anything nice for you.

 **louis:** bloody 60 pounds for a starter? i don’t think so.

 **liam:** _(shakes his head, hands on hips)_ i see your mom let you live in the attic, pretty neat. and with the twins coming along? i’m sure living with lottie in one room was a no?

 **louis:** _(sits on his bed, liam joins him lying on his back)_ basement was an option but it’s too cramped down there. you know i can’t believe school let us have an off day just because of what harry did.

 **liam:** lawsuits are terrible, they follow you all your life. _(louis looks surprised)_ don’t look at me like that, taylor’s mom is suing the school for that sextape video.

 **louis:** _(laughs)_ worse sextape in history for sure. i would take kim kardashian’s sextape any day. how is he?

 **liam:** fine. i went by this morning, he was still in bed but mckenzie is there so i’m sure he’ll be fine. will pop back in when i leave.

 **louis:** i don’t know why you hang out with jerks like those.

 **liam:** harry?

 **louis:** him too. but zayn, niall, taylor, the lot. they’re a bunch of super-rich, prick kids with nothing but loose ends and fake friends. all you do is sip champagne, smoke coke and party all night. what life is that? all day, every day.

 **liam:** _(sits up)_ speaking of parties, there is one this weekend.

 **louis:** _(hard)_ no.

 **liam:** please? you never come for these plus i’m pretty sure harry would love it if you were there.

 **louis:** yeah, when pigs fly.

 **liam:** harry isn’t like the rest of them.

 **louis:** no, _(points at liam)_ you aren’t like the rest of them. you aren’t ruled by money like the others are. money does not drive you, it does not dictate your life, tell you what to eat, what to wear, who to fook or where to be for the summer. you’re the good type of rich kid.

 **liam:** _(smiles)_ so is harry. if you gave him a chance, you’d see that.

 **louis:** it doesn’t matter if i have the biggest crush on him or if he has a girlfriend who has sex with goats _(stops himself from laughing)_ i am totally cool with just being group mates. that’s more than i can take anyway.

 **liam:** don’t you want to _(shrugs his shoulders)_ , i don’t know, date him?

 **louis:** date him? me? a poor kid like me dating harry? how many beers have you heard before coming here?

 **liam:** four _(louis raises eyebrows)_ but that’s not the point. you would be good for harry, you’d be the best thing for harry right now.

 **louis:** what do you mean by that? _(louis’ mother calls them for lunch)_ c’mon, it’s pasta today.

 

**scene 2**

 

**_(go down to the living room, where louis’ three sisters, lottie, daisy and phoebe are already seated, daniel on one end of the table and johannah on the other. liam and louis sit on the opposite side of his sisters)_ **

**liam:** _(smile plastered on his face)_ nice of you to have me for lunch, mrs tomlinson.

 **daniel:** there’s that fake rich folk smile _(liam sticks out his tongue)_

 **johannah:** what did i say about that name liam?

 **liam:** mama jo.

 **louis:** still find it weird that you call my mother ‘mama jo’.

 **daniel:** _(winks)_ someone’s jealous?

 **johannah:** _(smiles)_ it’s okay. it’s always fun having louis’ friends for lunch or dinner. ‘cause all we get around here are lottie’s loud friends who eat all our food.

 **lottie:** thanks mom!

 **liam:** well i’m happy to always come. feels like family when i’m around you guys.

 **daniel:** you are family. and family is always family because it…

 **lottie, daisy, phoebe:** does not end.

 **louis:** _(chewing)_ i still don’t get that phrase.

 **liam:** _(laughing)_ i do.

 **phoebe:** really? how because i’m with louis on this one.

 **liam:** i come from a rich family and we don’t sit at tables at meal times. dad’s always traveling with mom so my parents aren’t around much. i eat with the maids at home, if i actually do eat. i sometimes go to dinners at my friend’s place but it’s the same with them, their parents not in and too many maids in the house it’s weird.

 **daisy:** so then who is your family?

 **liam:** _(winks)_ cars and wine.

 **johannah:** _(frowns, holds liam’s wrist)_ not a life for a young 19 year old boy like you.

 **daniel:** liam, it’s beers. not wine, beers.

 **louis:** true! _(raises beer bottle, johannah, daniel and liam raise theirs)_ hear, hear!

 **johannah:** liam you know you can come any time for dinner when your folks aren’t around, or if you get tired of driving your jaguar around all night.

 **liam:** yes mama jo.

 **phoebe:** _(excited)_ can we drive in it?

 **lottie:** please?

 **daniel:** girls.

 **liam:** if mama allows it.

 **johannah:** never in a million years

 **phoebe:** why not?

 **louis:** yeah, why not?

 **daniel:** _(begs)_ please.

 **johannah:** _(stern)_ no! last time lottie drove in one of liam’s fancy schmancy cars she had to be in a leg cast for two months.

 **louis:** two months of heaven because somebody couldn’t move around my room looking for liam’s nude photos.

 **liam:** _(asks lottie)_ you have my nude photos? _(lottie covers face with her hands, louis cackling)_

 **daisy:** _(shoving pasta into her mouth)_ what are nudes?

 **johannah:** grown up talk sweetie.

 **daniel:** share them son.

 **liam:** yeah louis share them _(winks)_ lottie needs to see what she is getting herself into.

 **lottie:** yeah lolo!

 **johannah:** he is 19 lots. not going to happen

 **lottie:** _(whines)_ dad!

 **daniel:** ( _to Johannah)_ don’t stand in the way of true love.

 **louis:** or 11 inches.

 **daisy:** what’s 11 inches?

 **johannah:** liam’s tv.

 **liam:** _(offended)_ that’s for the maids, not mine.

 **daisy:** is it your ding-a-long?

 **lottie:** louis said it was 10 inches. _(turns to liam)_ is it 10 or 11?

 **daniel:** let’s hope 11.

 **louis:** you can’t handle it even if it was 10.

 **johannah:** _(clasps hands, announces)_ desert time.

 **daniel:** i think so too babe _(turns to liam)_ liam, whip it out!

 **liam:** oh, kill me now.

 **lottie:** _(cheers)_ yes!


	4. 0.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all meet in detention....

mrs maths enters the class, her hands full of papers and books up to her face. in a thud, she drops everything on her hands, including her coffee which spills to the floor.

“fucking shit!” she curses. her eyes stare down at the class and land on the lad sitting at the front. “you, get me a stack of tissues s.t.a.t!”

the boy runs out and mrs maths continues teaching. or rather whining about her morning, how her cab was late to pick her up, she did not finishing marking the surprise quizzes, and so on and so forth.

“what a bore!” taylor sighs loudly.

“yeah.”

“are you still pissed about the sextape?” she asks. she rolls her eyes when harry does not reply or even look her way. she continues, unfazed, “you need to get over yourself because sextapes come and go. and pretty soon there’ll be a new headline in this school and maybe you won’t be so pissy. actually i should be mad because you filmed me when you should respect my privacy.”

“talking about respect?” he questions, bored.

“i also feel disrespected,” niall adds, sitting to the left of taylor. “you should have been minding your own business that day.”

“i should’ve.”

“and why were you with mckenzie?” she asks. “you know that bitch has an sti.”

“stis,” niall corrects.

“why do you like her? are you cheating on me now? with that bitch?!”

“that’s nasty!” niall chuckles. “maybe she gave aids to harry.”

“shut up! i had sex with him last year,” taylor giggles, slapping niall’s arm. “plus he wouldn’t cheat on me.”

niall gazes at harry who does the same, and then niall gazes back at taylor. he winks before saying, “not so sure about that.”

taylor fumes and turns her head so fast to face harry and literally shouts at the top of her lungs, “you fucking c.unt! you cheated on me?”

“you fucked a goat taylor!” he blurts out. the class turns round and mrs maths stops teaching and sighs.

“mr styles, in front now with louis,” she commands and harry gladly walks to the front. he plops down on the chair with a huge sigh, this worse could not have gotten worse. “and you’re staying after school, detention. you too, taylor waldorf and niall horan.”

“what did i do?”

“shut up shut up shut up!” mrs maths chants. “you will not distract me. oh that reminds me, more group changes: zayn will move to group one while mckenzie will move to group seven. liam will move to group three and johnson will move to group four…”

harry zones out once again. and he does the whole day, basically ignoring everyone including liam and mckenzie. he did not feel bad about it because he just felt like everyone is suffocating him. he walks through ‘narnia’ which is a nickname for the mini-forest in the school. he stayed the whole day and only left when it was time for his detention.

“where were you?” taylor asks once harry walks into the room. great, of course taylor would be here, along with niall.

“where’s your goat?”

“fuck you!” she screams. “where are you going?”

ignoring her, he makes his way to the back of the class, and sits down. he takes out his phone and earphones and shuts off the world. or almost does. someone pokes him from the back and he turns to see it is…is it louis?

“what?”

“you dropped your phone,” he says, a little surprised by harry’s tone. he looks down and picks up his spare gold, samsung s6+. “thanks.”

“welcome.”

he sighs. he removes his earphones and checks if their detention teacher has arrived but he has not. he turns on his chair and louis looks up at him. harry swears he feels like the room is so quiet he can hear a pin drop, his breathing slowing down.

“liam’s friend right?” he asks, taking harry out of his trance.

“yep,” he nods. somehow harry feels the need to keep talking to him and it is harder than it seems. see harry never had to initiate a conversation, or keep one going, because people loved talking to him, always wanting to be near him. he is filthy rich, smoking hot, and only dates gorgeous girls. he is a catch because he is not only hot but smart too, book smart!

harry racks his brains for what to say, or ask louis to keep the conversation going. “what are you in here for?”

“i smashed the window of the science class with a football,” louis shrugs.

“what?”

he explains, “yeah, it was a mistake. if liam was a good goalkeeper he would’ve caught the ball but that butter-fingers loser didn’t and so it hit the window.”

“liam plays football?” harry asks. louis cocks his head to one side. “i mean i knew but i mean, we just don’t play together that’s all.”

“what do you usually do when you’re together?” he asks. louis does not get the chance to reply because liam’s head pops through the door and calls his friend. louis stands up, grabbing his things from the desk and stuffing into his backpack.

“where’re you going?” harry asks. “how come you can leave?”

“liam’s the best,” louis says. he winks at harry and walks to meet his friend by the door, his eyes not leaving louis.

what an ass!


	5. 0.4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Liam chat over a game of football. Louis learns a little about Harry Styles.

_**(LIAM and LOUIS lying on the grass, panting after playing football for 3 hours at LIAM’s house)** _

**Louis:** I can’t believe I beat your ass again, ten-two.

**Liam:** You’re just a pain in the arse you know that. Plus the last goal doesn’t even count because you literally were—

**Louis:** _(interrupts)_ You’re starting to sound like Van Gaal, Liam. Suck it in, and let it go. Someday you’ll be a good football player. Oh wait, that’s when I’ll be dead.

**Liam:** _(sits up, reaches into his bag and takes out his water bottle, takes a sip)_ Like Mourihno?

**Louis:** Dude had it coming. 16 th place is pure disrespect.

**Liam:** What about Leicester in top 3? That’s pure disrespect and someone should be beaten up for it.

**Louis:** _(LIAM passes his water bottle to him, takes a gulp)_ You wouldn’t beat anyone, just drive into them with one of your 30 spare cars and probably crush it to the ground so that you wouldn’t be found guilty.

**Liam:** _(smiles cheekily)_ No car, no crime.

**Louis:** It’s “no body, no crime” but _(murmurs under breath)_ potato potato.

**Liam:** Hey, what was up with you in detention yesterday anyway? And why was Harry there?

**Louis:** _(evasive)_ What? Me?

**Liam:** I saw you talking to Harry for like ages and didn’t you say he was, now what was it, an obnoxious, good-for-nothing, super rich kid who can’t cook an egg?

**Louis:** _(rolls eyes, small smile)_ He is. But he is…sweet, _(adds quickly)_ I guess. _(LIAM smiles, LOUIS squints his eyes at him)_ Don’t do that. Don’t smile at me like I’m warming up to you rich kids. You’re all the same at the end of the day. Different face, same shit, that’s all.

**Liam:** Except me?

**Louis:** _(places his hand on LIAM’s shoulder)_ Except you _(adds quietly)_ and maybe Harry. I don’t know what it is but he just seems out of this world.

**Liam:** He is.

**Louis:** Not as in hot, or whatever, but his mind is out in space. The entire time he walked in the detention class, his head was not even in class but my goodness, his aura, his entire self was just _(bites down on lip)_ delicious _(quickly)_ and reeking of money.

**Liam:** I reek of money and have good posture. _(inches closer to him)_ Louis William Tomlinson, are you falling for me?

**Louis:** Ha! You wish. But you’re like my brother. You’re family, dickhead. But I’m serious, what’s wrong with him?

**Liam:** _(takes a deep breath)_ Taylor is wrong with him. His mom is wrong with him. His dad is wrong with him. His friends are wrong with him. He is like a bunch of wrongs all squashed behind his white skin. _(LOUIS gapes)_ What? That’s not racist, I promise.

**Louis:** That’s mean. You can’t say that about him when you’re his friend.

**Liam:** Sometimes you forget I’m not nice all the time, _(points at him)_ you taught me to be nice, to be friendly and to look beyond my money. That family isn’t always blood; it’s the people in your life who want you in theirs, _(small smile on his face)_ the ones who accept you who are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile and who love you no matter what.

**Louis:** And Harry?

**Liam:** _(raises an eyebrow)_ What about Harry?

**Louis:** Does he not get along with his family?

**Liam:** _(spins the football between his hands)_ No, but he never did. His parents were never around too much. As a child his only friend, or companion, were and always have been the maids. They would play with him, feed him, take him to school, walk the dog with him. Eventually Harry realized this was not exactly _(quotes in air)_ “proper” so he stopped because he got embarrassed. And then Taylor came along.

**Louis:** Taylor? His girlfriend?

**Liam:** Ruined him completely. Harry was a nice kid, the nicest even. Nicer than me. _(LOUIS is surprised)_ He was normal but then Taylor showed him the way he was supposed to act – rude, bitchy, mean, nonchalant, big and empty all because mommy and daddy are rich.

**Louis:** What changed?

**Liam:** He stopped doing what he loved. Painting, singing, baking and even playing football _(chuckles slightly)_. He would always be with Taylor – whether shopping, playing dumb pranks on other poor kids or just, I don’t know, stuff. Then he got older and it became worse _(scratches head)_ He started going out to parties all night, and all day nursing a hangover, he would randomly get in his dad’s Jaguar and drive for kilometres, sometimes not coming back for four days. At first I would be worried because he didn’t come to school or answer the door. I’d ask Taylor and she would shrug. Zayn too, _(bitter)_ and Niall.

**Louis:** Fuck me

**Liam:** At times, I’d bail him out of jail for drunk driving or underage driving because if his dad or mom ever found out he’d be dead.

**Louis:** What about Niall? Or Zayn? Or Taylor? Why didn’t they help bail him out?

**Liam:** _(snorts)_ You’re kidding, right? Those people don’t give a shit about Harry, or each other really. School is what unites all of us, and money, once we graduate we all pretend like we didn’t know each other in high school. Harry found out this and it really affected him because he thought that he had genuine, caring, and loving friends, people he could count on and now when he knows that he has no one in the end? That everyone is just there because he is loaded? _(melancholy)_ He takes to the rooftop.

**Louis:** Rooftop? What an odd place.

**Liam:** He says he likes the view but that’s a load of bull. One time he got so high, shit _(fake smiles)_ I think if it were possible to overdose on kush that was Harry. _(low tone)_ He got really high that night, I remember the scene: too many wine bottles I can’t even pronounce, empty sacks of weed, butt-ends of blunts _(fake laughs)_ all around you’d think it was a party. I found him, I was so lucky to him. He was standing on the ledge, screaming at the world, because it was the world that made him be who he is. The world was at fault and it wasn’t saying sorry to him.

**Louis:** _(holds LIAM’s arm, worried)_ What was he saying?

**Liam:** _(shrugs shoulders)_ I don’t know, he was just mumbling words, lots of words, and things, _(pause)_ things that didn’t make sense. He was going to jump, Louis. He was going to jump. And he did. _(LOUIS’ eye bulge)_ He jumped _(pauses)_ And survived.

**Louis:** I’m sorry.

**Liam:** _(sad smile)_ When things could not get worse they did.

**Louis:** How?

**Liam:** _(takes a deep breathe, exhales quickly)_ Wish I could tell you but let’s just say McKenzie has been there for him since that incident. She always has his back, on good days and on bad days. On days when he can’t wake up and on days when he wants to take his father’s gun and shoot – shoot anyone, and anything standing in his way.

**Louis:** What about you? What happened to you and Harry?

**Liam:** _(one shoulder shrug)_ We fell apart after the rooftop incident. When he fell I feel like I saw the old Harry for the last time. _(sudden mood change, clasps his hands, wide smile)_ I’m hungry. Let’s go home.

**Louis:** _(nods, hesistant)_ Sure. Mom’s making pizza tonight.

**Liam:** _(grins)_ Nothing like homemade pizza I say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't mind me, i really do LOVE football [:


	6. 0.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and trisha try to make it to harry's party on time....

no, absolutely not is louis tomlinson a stalker. yet here he is, walking around school hoping to get a glimpse of _the_ harry styles.

bright an early he had checked the parking lot to see if harry’s cadillac was parked but it was not. i mean, maybe louis had purposely come to school early to check on harry but what if he was just excited to get out of the house? plus the trains are crazy this time of year.

during their english class with mrs maths, he was not in. he could have asked liam where harry is but neither was liam! strange, louis thought. it is not like liam to miss school. in looking for harry, louis made eye contact with this the chatterbox of the school: trisha may. louis groaned the whole lesson, trying to block out her voice but it was impossible when she was so close to his ear.

plus mrs maths changed their groups (again!) so now trisha was in his group, along with harry, niall, mckenzie and gigi.

fast forward to lunch, he could not shake off trisha so guess who he sat with for lunch? for an hour and 10 minutes? yup, trisha. do not get louis wrong, he loves listening to people’s stories and their adventures – just not hers. as they are both getting out of the cafeteria, he sees zayn and gigi together so louis’ hopes rise because if those two are in school then the chances of harry being in school are higher.

louis rests the back of his head on the red wall near class 09. harry usually has chemistry at this time so louis takes a deep breath and pokes his head through the open door.

“what are you doing?”

louis freaks out and falls to the ground, everybody in class 09 looking at the door to get a glimpse of him. he quickly looks up to see trisha smiling down at him and another face pops into his view: mrs english, the chemistry teacher.

“hello mrs e,” louis nervously greets.

“what are you doing?” she asks, her voice angry. “you’re meant to be in class no? get off the floor before i give you detention.”

louis quickly gets on his feet, swiping one look at the class, no harry, and walks off with trisha still on his trail.

“don’t you have class?” he asks her, _trying_ not to be irritated by her shadowing presence.

“my class is actually 012, so looks like we’re going the same way,” she tells him. louis picks up his pace so that they reach their faster. “slow down. the whole day you’ve been walking so fast it’s like you want me gone.”

“ha,” louis laughs nervously, “why would i want to get rid of _you_?”

“all the rich assholes and bitches do,” she shrugs.

“liam isn’t,” louis says. he stops in front of class 012. his heart drops to the ground when he reads **TODAY'S GEOGRAPHY CLASS IS WITH MR PHYSICS IS CANCELLED** plastered on the door. ”great.” 

“i know right,” trisha cheers. “no class!”

louis sucks it up and starts to think of how to get rid of trisha all the while blocking out what she is saying about her dad. he walks down the corridor to his locker when suddenly it is slammed in his face. he turns to his left and behold is the girl with bushy eyebrows, mckenzie.

he says nothing waiting for her to speak. he figures that it is always easier when the rich snobs speak first because honestly when he starts, they never stop talking.

“i’ve seen you around, you’re louis right?” she asks. surprisingly trisha has stopped talking and it feels like music to louis’ ears. he replies to mckenzie that it is him.

“well you’ve been walking around school the whole day, looking for someone?”

“nope.”

“someone with long hair to their shoulders, wears ysl all the time, with black boots?”

“dunno who that is.”

“has green eyes, cheshire smile and their girlfriend is taylor waldorf,” she continues.

“oh, niall?” he asks, pretending not to know.

“what?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowed in the middle. “it’s harry you dumbass.”

“oh,” he says, nodding his head slowly, “that harry. almost thought you meant harry watson.”

“who is that?”

he heaves deeply, “what do you want mckenzie?”

“why are you looking for harry _styles_?” she stresses on his last name.

“i…uhhhhhhh.” louis stalls. _what is he to say? he is never good at lying on the spot!_

“louis and harry are in charge of decorating the tree by the parking lot for tomorrow’s fun fair,” trisha says. mckenzie’s eyes shift to trisha standing behind louis. then back to louis who is sheepishly smiling up at her.

“huh,” she hums. she shrugs her shoulders believing their story. “harry is at home preparing for his party tonight.”

“it’s a monday,” trisha points out. “who parties on a monday?”

“we do.” she flashes a smile, winks, and walks past them.

trisha groans. “rich people huh?” she looks past louis in the direction that mckenzie walked away in. “what a blast it must be if it is harry’s party. rumor has it that last time lorde and the band haim came to his party. and the party before that niall drove one of his mercedes into the pool. ooh, and the one before that—”

“pretty sure it was awesome,” louis groans. secretly he is amazed about harry’s party, i mean who would not?

harry’s parties were always parties of the year, even if one was held like five times in a month, and not necessarily on the weekend. that’s for people with no money. invitations would come through, and everyone who was someone went: taylor waldorf, his girlfriend, then his super rich friends zayn malik, gigi, niall horan, mckenzie, liam payne and of course some british celebrities. sleek cars and limousines would be lined up from the gate, down the hedges leading to harry’s mansion.

if one came at the time written on the invitation, which was always 9 o’clock sharp, harry would wait at the door, and whoever was greeted by harry with a kiss on the cheek from his cherry lips swooned the whole night. after 9:15 harry would be gone to attend to the already full party. all around are workers, donned in black and white, carrying trays of tall glasses and foods that louis for sure knows he cannot pronounce, nor trisha. though rumor has it they are delicious, _mouth-watering_ delicious.

“he gives large parties and i like large parties,” trisha smiles in a dream-like state.

“i prefer small ones.”

“small ones don’t have privacy but large ones are intimate,” trisha winks. “let’s go!”

“why don’t you go alone?”

“harry will be there. plus today is gatsby-themed.”

“so?”

“so i saved your ass in front of mckenzie,” trisha points out. “you owe me.” louis sighs in defeat. trisha squeals on the spot just as the bell rings indicating the end of school. “yes! let’s go.”

when she says “go” louis thought it means they go separately to their houses get dressed then meet outside harry’s mansion. nope. she drags him shopping at the mall, changing in almost 27 dresses, new bras, make up, and oh my lord, shoes!

“pick one and let’s go,” louis says.

“now we do you,” she says. she stares at him up and down and back up. “you need an outfit for the party as well. something that screams ‘i’m a snobby rich kid.’”

that is what they do from 6pm until around 7:30pm when trisha is satisfied with their shopping trips. they agree that they will take the underground, and then a bus to harry’s party, and then walk from there because public transport does not reach where harry’s mansion is. in the underground, they both count how many pounds they have – just in case they have to pay for the bar at harry’s party. for two kids in high school, who take the _bus_ to a party while everyone drives a cadillac or dropped by their chauffeurs, they have a lot of money; on them a total of 56 pounds and 70 cents. louis declares he will be in charge of keeping the money seeing as he did not trust chatterbox trisha with money.

the two are walking towards harry’s mansion; louis already sweating through his shirt and feeling like his black skinny jeans is going to rip any second. he glances to trisha who is glowing with enthusiasm and what looks like determination on her face, even in her 7-inch heels.

“stop!” louis heaves. he slams his butt on the pavement in front of an expensive looking house. he would not be surprised if it belonged to a celebrity. “i’m exhausted.”

“c’mon, it’s like five minutes to 9,” trisha tells him glancing at her new, silver watch. “we need to be there by 9 so that we can meet harry by the door.”

“are you trying to meet harry or go to the party?” asks louis, still catching his breath. trisha rolls her eyes, plops down on the pavement and watch white and black sleek cars pass by them, most likely heading to harry’s mansion. louis pockets out a cigarette from his back pocket, and a lighter in the other. he flicks the lighter and lights up his butt cigarette.

“i know we met today and you were not looking for me but somehow we ended up together,” she begins, “and you agreed to go with me to this party. well you’re going to see harry because you love him but i’m going to see niall. niall is like the hottest, hottest hottest hottest piece of ass in our school and whoever gets laid with him is like an instant celeb girl. generally he would not notice me because i’m not a rich snob but at this party it doesn’t matter, we’re all the same.”

“hmm,” he hums. he takes a puff of his cigarette, his cheeks hollow. trisha is momentarily dazed in watching the smoke fly out his pink lips. “you wanna get laid with niall?”

she nods enthusiastically. “yes! yes! it would be a dream come true. i mean, being his girlfriend would be, but just his penis on any part of my body is what i am going to take and this is it!”

“okay,” louis nods. he stands up and holds out his hand for trisha. “okay! we are getting niall’s penis in your vagina.”

“and you harry’s,” she grins, holding his hand. “but…i’ve never even, you know…”

“had sex?” he asks. “i’m sure niall wouldn’t mind.”

“kiss.”

“you’ve never kissed anyone?” he asks her, surprised. she looks terribly embarrassed and louis immediately takes his words back. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it in that way. it’s fine that you haven’t, we don’t all have to do something by a certain age.”

“i know you’re gay so it wouldn’t be bad so we can french.” louis cannot make sense of what he has been asked. well he can because trisha has asked for a kiss but he finds it odd, and shiver-y. “you’re gay so why not?” she insists. “or don’t you know how to kiss?”

“i do,” insists louis. “i’ll show you.”

trisha grins. louis rolls his eyes, and licks his lips. he shows her the ropes on smooching, louis wondering if she is enjoying this _more than_ just learning to kiss. i mean, she did grab his butt _after_ he slightly pulled her hair then she moaned slightly and he got a little hard.

to say they were late is an understatement. turns out trisha had not estimated the distance to harry’s mansion for close to an hour they were still walking to harry’s party and by 10:45pm they finally arrive. the party is in full swing: the music is upbeat, the drinks are flying around, white lines on practically every table if it was not being used for body shots, green charms filling bowls all around and waiters making sure everything was _too much_.

trisha left louis as soon as they entered through the doors and now he is sitting on the lawn, drinking from a tall glass. to his right are two people he honestly thinks are having sex and to his left, the _party going wild_. the music changes to what sounds like american 1920s music that definitely would be played at a jay gatsby party.

louis thinks: only one night is all he’s got. he stops thinking about how the hell is getting home, that definitely he cannot take another drink because he will be drunk and won’t make it home, thinking of a lie to tell his parents of why he cannot go to school tomorrow, and most importantly, _where the fook is trisha?!_

“louis!” mckenzie shouts walking towards where louis is sitting. she had a beer in one hand, her eyes glazed and boy is her breath reeking of beer. “i see you’ve met jimmy and daisy.”

“who?” he asks and mckenzie points to the couple near him who are having sex (he is most sure). “oh, yeah. they’re pretty great.”

“if i didn’t know any better you’re here for harry.”

“nope,” he fervently denies.

“i can see you blushing,” she giggles.

“i’m not!”

“i can tell you where he is,” she says speaking above the loud music.

“wouldn’t care,” he says but does not mean it. he is trying to play cool. “but if i were, where is he?”

“in the house,” she says. “or out here.” louis looks around and it looks like there are hundreds of people here! mckenzie’s laughter fills his eyes and he sees he is messing with her. “i’m joking. he is inside the house. i could show you where, if you want. it’s no trouble.”

“what’s in it for you?” he asks.

she smirks. “i see you’ve gotten familiar with free requests.”

“you rich, snobby folk do something for us, it’s never free,” he says. “we always pay after.”

“this one is on the house,” she tells him, coming face-to-face with louis.

“nothing is on the house.”

she sighs playfully. “fine. all you gotta do is take trisha away from the house. she can’t stop yapping about how niall fucked her good.”

louis nods. he follows mckenzie through the sweaty, loud, cheery crowds into the house. finally in the house, the turn a right, a left, another left, one more left, a right, another one, too many turns louis stops tracking in his mind how many turns it has been from the door that now he is focusing on following mckenzie. it is harder than it seems as there are too many people louis is keeping it together from tripping over anyone and bumping into another.

mckenzie stops and points with her finger to a harry sitting on a round couch, niall laughing about whatever with trisha’s mouth moving insanely fast. gigi and zayn are randomly talking about nothing and then harry, high as a kite.

mckenzie interrupts his daydream. “now your turn.”

“i haven’t even talked to him,” he says hurriedly.

“that wasn’t the deal,” she says to him. she sighs. “i see how you look at him like he shits rainbows and unicorns and he has that delicious smell of class and cherries. but that’s harry for you. he’ll pull you in with his charm, buy you anything you want and drop you like last season’s ysl shirt. he’ll break your heart, you’ll bleed to death and he’ll look at you once and walk away.”

“not true,” says louis shaking his head.

“i know harry better than taylor does,” she says. she gazes at louis stopping his tears dropping down her cheeks. the corners of his lips are cast down and his jaw tight. “harry’s really a nice person, genuinely like liam but it’s the people he’s with, the pressure from his family that make him the snobby rich kid he is. the asshole that will fuck you good one night and you feel like you’re on top of the world because quite frankly it’s harry styles but that’s it. it’s just one night.”

“trisha,” he calls out. trisha, harry and niall all turn to him. louis feels weak at the knees upon harry gazing up at him. “let’s go.”

“but it’s only 2am,” niall tells him loudly, “don’t be such a spazz.”

“we gotta go,” he says firmly. his eyes do not leave harry nor does the boy with his heads on the clouds. he then turns to mckenzie. “harry is all those things you’ve said but you see him through your snobby, green eyes that don’t see his deep soul. i know somewhere he found someone that he truly loved and cherished but lost it because, as you called them ‘rich snobby assholes’ took it away from him.”

“it wasn’t our fault,” she says.

“now all he is doing is searching for real love and this,” he says, swirling his finger to harry’s gang sitting on the couch, “is a cry for attention. how long till someone hears him?”

mckenzie furrows her brows at louis who turns his gaze away from her and back to harry. she then shouts to trisha, “you fucked niall now leave trisha!”

louis slightly tugs his lip upward, not leaving the eye contact he was having with harry. louis’ eyebrows shoot up when harry tugs his cherry lips into a smile. now louis thinks _he_ is high as a kite. so high he does not remember how he is at the bus stop waiting for a bus home at 5:12am with chatty trisha who does not shut up about her one night with niall.


	7. 0.6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mrs maths puts louis and harry together for an assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short chapter. sorry about that \=

“i’m changing groups again,” mrs maths announces, half an hour into the english lesson. “i’ve realized that none of you have done any gazette work in a group of five people. this is what i’m going to do, you’ll all be in twos and before each one moves to choose their partner, i will be choosing the partners. i’ll begin with taylor and mckenzie will be in one group, zayn and liam, gigi and brittany, louis and harry, niall and liam…”

louis’ heart jumps to his throat. he is going to be together with harry in one group? oh! he does not think he can do this. he does not think he can yet he has to when harry takes the seat near him at the back of the class.

“hey,” he greets him. “you’re liam’s friend?”

“yeah,” louis nods. he bites down on his bottom lip. he can feel color spreading through his cheeks. “louis.”

“i’m harry.”

“i know,” he says and changes, “i mean nice to meet yeah.”

“i’m glad we are in the same group, no drama, no dumb shit going on like when we were five,” he says. louis could drown in those green eyes.

“wh-what did you do yesterday?” he mutters. _what?_ he questions, _what a lame question_.

“i chilled by the pool with zayn and gigi,” he says. “not much. gigi fell in the pool though.”

“cool.”

taylor turns to the rest of the class and loudly says, “you know if i was in the same group with a fooking peasant like tomlinson, i’d kill myself.”

zayn joins in. “or cry about it in my toyota.”

niall adds, “because i secretly have chlamydia and haven’t told anyone.”

the whole class gasps at louis who turns as red as the red apple on mrs maths desk. harry leans close to his ear and he swallows _a pint_ of his saliva. as if that was not enough, harry places his palm on his arm. “don’t listen to them, they’re assholes.”

louis nods, not trusting his ability to talk. harry smirks and faces the front of the class. mrs maths announces that they gazette should be finished by the end of the semester and since it is just two people, she reduces the number of pages to 10.

“what do you think we should do?” harry turns to him. “something big.”

“she did say we talk about school events, so essentially what happened last year.” louis is interrupted by taylor again who announces to the class that he is a poor peasant who wears hand-me-downs and sleeps on the floor because they are too many in the family living in a run-down house by the train.

“is that true?” harry asks. louis keeps quiet, his eyes down. harry touches his chin and turns his face to gaze at harry. “it doesn’t matter at the end of the day what you have, it’s what’s in your heart.”

“money talks.”

“love moves the world.”

“and money is the wind.” harry lets go of his chin. “is she your girlfriend?”

“taylor?” he asks, “it’s complicated.”

“nothing is complicated,” louis says. “i think people say that because either they don’t want it to end or can’t grow a pair and end it.”

“says the one who’s been single for a year,” harry smirks.

“and i’m happy,” louis says. harry blinks at him and bites down on his bottom lip. louis groans, _why was he an ass sometimes?_ “that’s not what i meant.”

“it’s fine. i’m sort of stuck with her for the rest of my life.” louis waits for him to continue as he secretly dies inside listening to his velvet voice, watching his cherry lips move. “her parents and mine are close friends, they meant in yale and ever since they’ve been together and so taylor and i automatically just became close. like a never-ending cycle of friendship i guess.” he quickly adds, “she’s not bad, really i swear, just misunderstood. and snobby.”

“and words like knives that make you feel like nothing,” interjects louis. “and all she’ll ever be is mean.”

“with a goat for a husband,” laughs harry, louis joining him.


	8. 0.7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mckenzie and harry go on their adventurous adventures in seeking revenge....

harry hears a loud thud in his room. he flutters his eyes open and immediately turns on his bedside lamp and sits up right. it is mckenzie donned in a black hoodie, a short pink dress with black chuck taylor’s on her feet. not forgetting her trademark bushy eyebrows.

“what the hell k?!” he yells at her. she shuts the window and plops down on his bed. harry’s heart beat is high and it is taking a long time to go down because i mean, _it could have been a robber_.

“wake up, we’re going out.”

“i don’t want to go to a club k, it’s 3 in the morning for crying out loud,” he grunts, his voice heavy with sleep.

“don’t be a puss mr styles. i told you i would make sure niall paid for cheating on me and for taylor and brittany for being assholes of a friend for not telling me when they are my best friends.”

“you need to do this at 3 in the morning? honestly i thought your adventures were y’know reserved for after school?”

she inches closer to harry and tells him in a low voice, her eyes showing betrayal. “i know it’s dumb and i’m probably acting out and taylor has been there for me since i don’t even know but she’s my best friend and she shouldn’t have slept with my boyfriend niall. and i know our gang has fooked morals and only see money as the ultimate but it shouldn’t be and i can’t believe it took me this long to figure this out.”

harry rolls his eyes. it looks like he is not going back to sleep. he gets off his bed, his ding-a-long hanging low. mckenzie has a huge smile on a face when harry gets ready and he comes out two minutes later with matching black converses. mckenzie winks and they are off for whatever adventure mckenzie has planned.

“where are we going?” he asks seated in the driver’s seat.

“thank you for not asking _more_ questions,” she tells him. she reaches into her tiny, red sling bag and removes a yellow sticky note. “these are the things we’re fixing tonight, we’re turning the world around. now drive to the mall.”

“we’re shopping at 3am?” harry blabs out loud. “why are we shopping now? i thought we’re ruining niall’s life?”

“yes but we can’t do that empty handed,” she says. harry nods and drives them in his range rover to the mall. surprisingly, there are a number of cars in the parking lot and harry wonders what they are doing there. he locks the car and follows mckenzie who is skipping towards it. he looks at the list and honestly he does not understand the items on the list. he knows what they are but does not understand why they need them – for example mayonnaise.

“why?” he asks.

“patience my love,” she winks. “now grab the trolley.”

walking down the aisles, mckenzie picks the items and harry ticks them off, one by one. back in the car harry asks what is the plan finally.

“our adventure begins,” she says dramatically, “and we start with niall. and we aren’t going to enter through the door because obviously the butler will call niall so we enter through the garage which i left open when i went by yesterday while picking up taylor.”

“she spent the night?”

“yeah but not with the goat,” she winks. “niall acts all tough and shit but he is worried about his future and that’s why he is hanging out with taylor, she can help him get into princeton.”

“he can by himself.”

“have you seen his grades? not even those can save him from going to a normal university like newcastle or something. stop the car!”

harry slams on the breaks and he looks around. they are a little off niall’s mansion in the wee hours of the morning. harry feels adrenaline rushing through him. he turns to mckenzie who is stuffing the items they had bought into her red sling bag. he follows her out and they naturally jump over the hedge and tip toe past niall’s pool.

“wait,” she says stopping harry in his tracks. he turns around and watches her unplug the pool. “his dogs like swimming at night but not tonight in an empty pool they won’t. now let’s go.”

“that was a dumb idea,” he drones. “what did the dogs do to you?”

“they prefer taylor over me.”

up in the house they successfully entered, making sure not to wake any of the male and female housekeepers and butlers in the house. mckenzie slowly turns niall’s door knob and they enter, with slow footsteps so as not to wake up niall.

“fooking taylor,” harry hisses, seeing niall and taylor sleeping together underneath the sheets.

“pass the tissue,” mckenzie orders. he does. he walks up to mckenzie and sees that she had put the shaving cream along his eyebrows and a little on his hairline. she throws the shaving cream back to harry and she smirks. he knows what to do and he does the same to taylor’s eyebrows. he gets more creative and grabs the scissors from her dressing table and chops chunks of her long, brunette hair.

“nice!”

not before, mckenzie logs into niall’s laptop (she knows the password) and checks his emails (again, she knows the passwords). she sees the two acceptances he got from harvard and columbia.

“he got into harvard?” harry growls with a low voice. “how the shit did he get into harvard?”

“that’s all taylor! the dean is friends with taylor’s mother,” she explains. she is furiously typing on the keyboard as harry is on the lookout for any movement from the bed. “but not for long. harvard is going to receive an email from mr niall horan that he is sadly not attending harvard when he graduates. nor will he attend columbia.”

“what? you can’t do that!”

“once you reject harvard, it’s not good for you because harvard will spread your name to all the other ivy leagues and soon none of them will want you.”

“are you serious?”

“that’s the way the world works. also nobody likes to invite students to their universities with questionable reputations involving say, goats.”

“what are you doing k?” harry hisses at her, a little loud. his eyes bulge out when he sees that she has attached the sextape video of niall, taylor and a goat. “you can’t do this, you’re ruining his life. you’re going too far, these adventures of ours are always nice and innocent.”

“do you want to graduate high school and then meet the bastard niall at harvard?” she asks. she then continues before harry opens his mouth. “no you don’t because that’s the worst thing to happen, have your past follow you around.”

harry secretly loves this, he really is. mckenzie takes out a blue sticky note and plasters it behind the door. harry takes a look and reads it. he slightly chuckles and they both make their way downstairs and out of the house without raising suspicion.

“where next?” harry asks, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. he is on fire right now.

“taylor’s house.”

they drive off to taylor’s house which is half an hour away but since there are hardly any cars on the road it took them 10 minutes. this time mckenzie instructs harry to park in front of the car seeing as her mansion was quite a distance from the gate. they jump over the gate, harry surprising himself that he could do it, and they jog to the door.

“how did you know how to unlock a door?” harry whispers once they are in the house. she winks and they race to her room. once inside harry asks what the plan is.

“this is where i’m going to hurt this bitch where it hurts most: her looks.”

“what exactly?” he asks specifically. she pockets out a huge pair of scissors from her red sling bag and starts snipping: snipping her curtains, her nets, her bed sheets, her clothes, and more clothes, and more, more clothes. harry joins in and he does not realize how many clothes she has.

a rush takes over him and he thinks of all the wrongs she has done to him. the one time she cheated, the second time it was with his then best friend nick, the tenth time, the twentieth time it was now with niall and the twenty-first time, with a goat. he finds her credit cards and snaps them in half, or almost. he cuts them in half with the scissors in his hands. he then goes into her bathroom which is has always been her safe haven. now it was not anymore.

he takes out her face creams, all five of them and squats out everything inside into the toilet. he then takes the mayonnaise they had bought and squirted it into the containers, and lacing the top with the actual cream so taylor would not suspect a thing. he does the same to the shower gels, lotions, and other moisturizers she owns.

“you done?” she asks when he emerges out of the bathroom with a satisfied smile. he nods and then his gaze slides to the bedside table with a photo of him, grinning and of her, smiling with all her teeth. it was a good day, he remembers. she had hired out the whole of wembley stadium for their sixth anniversary, got kanye west, and lana too, to perform made-from-scratch songs for just the two of them.

“are you okay?” he asks, dragging out from his daydream.

“yeah,” he says taking the photo in his hands. he throws it across the room, smashing it on taylor’s dressing mirror. “let’s go.”

“alright,” she says patting his shoulders. “my little harry is coming out.”

“where to?”

next on the list is brittanny’s house which mckenzie asks harry not to join her as this was a personal thing for her. he nods and waits for her. she comes in with a scowl on her face and harry chooses not to ask, letting her have her space. next stop is zayn’s house.

“what did zayn do now?”

“being an asshole,” she says like it is an obvious thing that zayn was next on their big adventure. in zayn’s house, it was less adventurers than the other people they pranked. “zayn’s whole life is coke and he literally lives on it. we just have to make sure we stop his life. y’know he sells?”

“he sells coke?” asks harry surprised. “since when?”

“since forever,” mckenzie replies. she finds zayn’s coke inside the toilet bowl, two handfuls of coke. “jackpot!”

“so you’re just stealing his coke?” harry asks. “brilliant!”

“stop being so boring. we are taking the coke yes, but not to sell it. we replace his stash with white sugar.”

“that explains why we bought sugar,” harry nods to himself.

“oh because we were going to take tea after?” she asks rhetorically. “no dumbass! now give me those plastic bags.”

“now what?” asks harry.

“we put sugar inside and put it back where his coke stash was,” she explains and harry smirks. this is a good plan. so good because from watching movies, he knows drug dealers do not work well with not having sold coke and gotten money for it. or lost it. mckenzie puts back the two bags of sugar into the toilet bowl and they are out of there as fast as they came in.

“what do we do with the coke?” asks harry as they cruise in his range down the road.

“what do you think we should do?” she asks, turning her face to his.

“how about nick?”

“grimmy?” she asks. “we haven’t seen him for months. what did he do?”

“he fucked taylor at my party,” he mutters, “when i was literally in the other room puking my guts out.”

by 7 in the morning, harry stops his car in a neighborhood he is not familiar with. they had gone to grimmy’s house, or formally known as nick, and replaced all the sugars in the house with the coke. the other bag, mckenzie gave it to her bulgy, hispanic, tear drop tattoo “friend” and again, harry did not ask questions and let it go. they then went to taylor’s mother’s house and mckenzie “put” photos of taylor’s father giving blowjobs to all sorts of people which harry recognized some like powerful politicians, businessmen and some models.

“what are we doing here?” he asks with his mouth upside down. his car was parked behind a _prius_ , full bags on trash by one house, a house with a broken window in and what is that smell in the neighbourhood that smells like burning tyre. not mentioning the train rolling by noisily. “why do you even hangout in this place? who do you know here?”

“one more before we go home,” she tells him. she taps his thigh before letting herself out of the car. she runs across the street towards an average looking house. she takes the ladder on the floor and positions it near the window by the attic. she climbs up, slips in through the window and takes off her hoodie from her head. she walks slowly to the bedside table, the woden floor below her feet creaking so much she stops walking.

just then the lad on the bed wakes up and mckenzie rushes to him, covering his mouth before letting out screams. the boy still screams but the sounds are muffled thanks to her hand.

“don’t scream, it’s me,” she whispers in the dark.

“mckenzie?”

“hi louis,” she winks. she sits on the edge of his bed as louis rubs his eyes. he blinks several times and gazes at her. “how are you?”

“what time is it?” he asks, his voice heavy with sleep.

“seven fifteen,” she tells him. louis’ mouth hangs.

“i’m supposed to be awake in literally five minutes to go to school,” he laments in a raspy voice. “plus what are you doing here? and how did you get in?”

“one i’ll be your alarm today, two liam left a ladder outside for me to get in and three, you’re right.”

“right about what?”

“doesn’t matter,” she says. she opens her red sling bag and hands him _the great gatsby_ book. “i listened to what you said about harry seeking real love and i just want to say that i’m listening and i’m doing something about it.”

“i didn’t mean anything by it.”

she rolls her eyes. “yes you did louis. and today somehow proved it.”

“what happened today? does it have anything to do with you being in my room at 7 in my house?”

“why are you in this dusty attic anyway?” she asks dodging his question.

“i like it in here,” he shrugs. “what’s with the book?”

“have that book in two days’ time for mrs maths’ class,” she explains, “and let larry stylinson happen.”

“what is larry?” he asks.

“larry,” she says, “harry plus louis equals larry. it’s your ship name that i came up with.”

“what are you doing?” he asks her, really meaning what she up to. “you’re in my attic dead in the morning, giving me fitzgerald’s greatest work and combining my name with harry’s…” he looks up from the book he is flipping pages to find mckenzie gone in a flash.

his alarm goes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone should watch 'paper towns' ^.-


	9. 0.8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's that time of the year when harry styles hosts one of his legendary parties....

 

harry throws off another girl off his body and walks towards the door of his house. he is hosting anther one of his legendary parties on a fine wednesday and as always, his mansion is filled to the brim.

“i know you have a spare room upstairs where we can get to know each other,” a brunette girl with blond ends stops harry on his tracks. he sighs loudly walking around her and determinedly heading to the door.

everyone attends harry’s parties, and when he says everyone he means everyone even if you did not get an invitation, you could still enter. that is why harry is waiting by the door, hoping for that classmate of his, louis, would come to this party today. i mean he did not actually ask him to come but if there is a party you attend it, right?

wrong!

harry grumbles on the spot and liam steps behind him. “what’s wrong this time? not enough champagne for everyone?” he mocks.

“ha ha,” harry mechanically laughs, “you’re hilarious.” he gets serious. “he isn’t here.”

“who? niall?”

“louis.”

“did you invite him?” liam asks. they both plaster smiles on their face as 5 girls walk past them, three of them winking at harry. “you know she has the biggest crush on you.”

“i’m serious li, he isn’t here,” harry moans, “i thought he’d be here.”

“you didn’t actually invite him harry. you just told people to come for a party, and they do, but louis isn’t the party crasher type.”

“i just thought he’d show,” harry grumbles. he grabs the lonely bottle by the door, bids liam a _goodbye_ and _don’t sleep with gigi again_ and makes his way to the rooftop. sadly it was these nights, mainly during his parties, that he wanted to take it all away and the rooftop was the place to do it.

with a bottle of scotch whiskey dangling from his left hand, he heaves himself up on the ledge. one of his housekeepers is standing far behind him by the wall and they are, and always has been, instructed to not touch harry even if his foot slipped and he lost his grip.

he head drops down, looking past the shoes on his feet, to the ground. it really was not that far and he probably would be _not alive_ by the time his shoulders graze against the cold, hard ground. he looks up again, enjoying the sky full of stars and there is nothing like this type of view.

he takes a swig of his bottle, swallowing a gulp, and another and soon he is drinking it like water.

harry swears he has already killed everything he loves but how can when he can get everything and anything he wants, with the snap of his silky fingers? really, he did not have anything to his name. he was just a mannequin, a shell filled with sterling pounds inside of him. he does not think he even has a heart…

“do a flip,” niall’s voice cries out in the night. he hears laughter behind him and niall’s louder than all of the others. harry blinks away the tears from his eyes. _imagine the pain away_. “do you know why your girlfriend always cheats on you? it’s because you’re pathetic styles. you’re just a mommy’s boy with no flavor, no spice, acne, greasy hair, hypocrite, lanky boy, yellow teeth, annoying jokes that honestly make me want to jump off a building.”

“and gay,” zayn agrees, laughing along with niall. “nobody likes a fag.”

“but what’s worse is you, you’re just a baby styles,” niall continues humiliating him, “a liar, poor because what, you only have 10 mercedes and 5 porches, and not forgetting your rejection letters from princeton, stanford, oxford, what was the other one, harvard?”

“you’re just mean niall,” harry says but it comes out as a whisper. he drops his bottle to the ledge, smashing it to what feels like a thousand pieces inside of him.

he is getting worse, no doubt. he remembers the first time he came up on the rooftop, he was fourteen, his first real girlfriend, kendall, had cheated on him for the first time with zayn, and his father told him he was _a good-for-nothing son who will amount to nothing_ and roared in laughter with his country club friends. and his mother? she could not even hug him without making him feel _needy_.

“ _you’re just mean niall_ ,” niall mocks him, imitating his small voice. he roars into laughter along with zayn who then takes his turn in mocking him.

“you’re always going to be alone in life harry that’s why you keep going back to your slutty bitch of a girlfriend, forgiving her like the pussy you are,” zayn states with a huge smirk on his face, “

“don’t you think i know that?” harry screams to the nothingness in front of him. “don’t you think i already know my flaws? i have to live with myself every day.”

it is hard for harry to look at the brighter things in life. it used to be easy because he would count himself lucky that he had three bentleys when others had one bicycle, he lived in a mansion and others in a trailer park, he had long luscious hair while others would never grow hair on their head because they had some illness of sorts, he had a thousand maids so he did not have to lift a finger to do chores like poor families, and his list kept growing and growing.

he grew up, somehow, and realized it was a pathetic list. his entire world is ruled by money and nothing but that – not love, not care, not humility, not respect, not friends, family, and it got harder to wake up in the morning with a smile on his face. or to remember why he should wake up.

zayn taunts him. “do us all a favor and actually jump and this time make sure you actually stay dead and not end up in hospital.”

harry shuts his eyes because _he cannot take himself there_. instead he takes himself to last year when he did not like his body. it was big: big, broad shoulders, big head, big arms, big feet, big pouch, thundering thighs. that is what he saw in the mirror but not the girls in his school. so what did he do? he splashed money on fixing, fixing everything about himself from head to toe, thinking that money could solve everything. he was sure that when he did fix his body he would be happy.

but he never became happy. he would randomly blackout during school hours for eating too little and going to the gym too much.

“plus you can’t fooking sing!” niall says, slapping zayn’s chest in humor and loud cackles.

“remember when he went on stage and chocked?” zayn recalls and the two laugh so loud that to harry it triggers his tears which are rolling down his cold cheeks. he taught himself to imagine all the pain away, all of it. and it worked.

“shut the fuck up assholes!”

“k?” harry questions, turning his head round to look down at mckenzie. she looks up to see harry, vulnerable and small despite his broad shoulders. he turns his face away from her and weakly tells her to go away.

“no,” she strongly says, “not this time. i’m not liam. i’m not going to let you jump.”

“nobody likes you anyway,” zayn says, “you think you have friends but you don’t. everyone only likes you for your money and your looks and it’s not love, it’s desperation. you think your maids care for you, love you but they don’t. they get paid so they have to pretend.”

“we are all fake friends harry,” mckenzie tells him the reality, “with terrible grasp of reality, drowning bottles of wine we can’t pronounce and not growing up knowing what love is but does not mean we can make something of ourselves. who we are does not affect who we will be in the future—”

harry softly asks, “i hate my name, i feel shame, i hate who i am but is it so wrong to want a little love?”

“yes! you don’t deserve it you pig.”

“i know what you can make of yourself,” zayn says, his face lighting up, “your head smashes on the ground with blood all around. it’s aesthetic.”

“yeah,” niall agrees. he palms zayn’s palm in a high five.

“no you idiot—harry no!” mckenzie shrills when harry takes a step forward on the ledge. she rushes to grab harry’s legs before he actually does fall. she grabs real hard onto him and she cannot pull him up.

“guys help!” she calls out to niall and zayn for help. they stand by, not moving an inch, and watch her struggle to hold harry by his legs.

“let me go k,” harry says, his arms dangling between his face. it almost looks as if his fingers are reaching for the ground where they do not have to hold onto everything that eventually goes away.

“help,” she screams this time to the housekeeper standing by the wall. he does not move on account of being instructed by harry to _never_ come near him when he is on the roof. the first one who did help harry from killing himself, because he did slip on the ledge, was fired on the spot. ever since all the workers in the mansion became scared of harry. “i’m calling for you,” she keeps screaming. “i’m calling you.”

her fingers are slipping, becoming weaker by the second from holding tightly onto harry. she turns back to him and instructs harry to look up at her. he complies and does, all black in his eyes like the inside of a mannequin.

“don’t do this, not now, not now,” she begs of him. finally mckenzie’s cries for help are heard but not by the housekeepers but liam who is on the rooftop.

“what’s going on?” he asks, seeing niall and zayn laughing and mckenzie by the ledge. “what’s wrong k?”

“you smell like sex,” zayn tells him nonchalantly, “like always.”

“help me lift him up,” she cries to him. liam rushes and grabs harry’s legs and pulls him up. mckenzie then takes his hands once she can reach for them. they pull him over the ledge and he sits down by the wall, where he is safe.

“pathetic really,” niall spits. he takes off, zayn following. liam stands back because he has seen this harry before and last time he saw this harry, harry slipped from his grasps and he knows that harry has never forgiven him for that.

mckenzie palms his cold cheeks, holding harry’s head in position from lolling against the wall. she darts her eyes between his, looking for _a sign that her harry is still in there_. “harry?”

“i didn’t even flinch when i fell this time,” harry tells them both. “i didn’t flinch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just discovered that you can put photos in your story!!! I'M NOW OBSESSED!!


	10. 0.9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry tells louis something important....

harry walks into mrs maths class. he scans around and frowns because _where is everyone?_ not that it is empty but his friends are not there. by friends he means his bastard friends he loathes. he scans again to check if he knows _anyone_ and sure enough he does, such as the brunette girl who wanted to have sex with him yesterday, or that boy who asked to borrow his car to impress his girlfriend, or louis…louis!

his eyes light up and heads to louis sitting two rows from the back seat. he plops down on the chair beside him and louis turns to him, his smile fluttering harry’s heart.

“hey!”

“hey,” greets louis, “i heard you had a sick party yesterday.”

“yeah, i guess,” he shrugs. he shuts his eyes from yesterday’s near-suicidal attempt. he takes deep breath and asks what louis did yesterday.

“i was reading _the great gatsby_ ,” louis says, showing harry the book that mckenzie showed him two nights ago when she broke into his attic.

“hmm. i like that book. my favorite really, it reminds me a little bit of my life.”

his interest perks up. “in what way?”

“i like big parties,” jokes harry. “but in a serious manner, gatsby was ambitious and rightfully so, great because he was worth the whole damn bunch. no matter what anyone thinks i think he did get the green light he just didn’t know it.”

“how?” louis asks. “he never got the girl.”

“but what he did for the girl is what matters. he moved the earth just to see a smile on her face. even when he lost her he still loved her, and it didn’t matter how much time passed between jay and daisy, gatsby still loved her.”

“she was a bitch,” louis shrugs. harry cackles, nodding in agreement. gigi walks in as they are talking about the book and she sits a row in front of them and turns around in her stool chair. she asks them if they have seen zayn.

“nope,” answers harry and he could care less.

“i swear he came to school, like his car was parked in the morning. do you think he is dumping me? i mean it will make sense, i didn’t have sex with him, instead i found filipe.”

“who is filipe?” louis asks. gigi blinks at him and turns her head back to harry.

“have you heard?” she asks and harry shakes his head. louis lowers his head pretending not to listen to gigi. “rumor has it that taylor’s parents are getting a divorce. i mean they were perfect together, apart from the cheating scandals, failed politic ambitions, and boob jobs, but they had one of the rolls royce that only five other people in the world own, so why get a divorce? did you know?”

“no i didn’t.”

gigi tucks her blond strand of hair behind her ear. “hmm. mckenzie knew somehow. well that’s what taylor told me, she said she knew this was mckenzie’s fault that they are getting a divorce, something about sucking dicks. and she cut her hair!”

“what?” louis asks surprised.

“everybody cuts their hair,” harry says. louis rolls his eyes because that is not why he is surprised.

“rumor has it niall’s future is in jeopardy,” she says. she removes a nail file from her purse and starts filing her glossy, manicured nails. “apparently, according to chuck, no ivy league school will ever want him because get this, he sent an email to harvard saying that he didn’t like their school, hated their crap, and attached a photo of his dick.”

“what?” harry feigns surprise. of course he knew this because he was there with mckenzie when _she_ wrote the email to harvard. “i’m shocked, it’s unlike niall.”

“i know right,” she says. “and guess what? nick is in rehab.”

“why?”

“overdose on coke,” she shrugs. “i don’t care really. nick is not the type to, you know, be friends with. i always knew that he had some issue, more sexual issues but really? a drug addiction? on cocaine nonetheless? wow! people do surprise you once they go m.i.a for one month.”

“where did he go?” asks louis.

harry answers him knowing gigi would not. “cuba.”

“why?”

“nobody cares,” she says, her voice a little loud. “i am worried about zayn. he hasn’t called me, he was last seen with brittany who, by the way, rumor has it she and mckenzie aren’t best friends anymore. she wrapped her car with saran paper.”

“what?” asks louis surprised. harry bites down on his lip, stopping himself from chuckling.

gigi continues, “but anyway, you know how brittany opens her legs for anyone with a yatch? she did have sex with zayn, i’m surer now than ever. i don’t know why zayn would cheat on me with that skank! you know she has maths right now, i’ll go see her.”

“see her why?”

“to punch a bitch!” she almost screams at harry. she huffs and puffs out of the class. mrs maths is still a no show

“so rumor has it…”

“not you too,” harry groans, turning to see louis chuckling a little. “you’re messing with me aren’t yah?” louis mumbles a _maybe i am_. “well you get to ask me this once.”

“okay,” louis says determinedly. “what’s with you and that red headed girl?”

“who, diana?”

“yeah, she your girlfriend?”

harry shakes his head. “no, she is more of a thing to keep taylor away from me.”

“like a beard?” he asks.

“but without the gay part. i mean i am but like it’s not, i’m more of a bisexual male, but then i could not be—”

“chill harry,” chuckles louis. “i don’t care if you are gay, it’s cool that you are but it shouldn’t define everything that you are. but why not just, i don’t know, dump taylor?”

“i did.” harry nods, feeling more relaxed. “except that is not how it works. you can’t be single. you break up you need to find someone to hold your arm around, to keep off the bitches like taylor. diana and i are just sex objects to each other, nothing more. plus she thinks i’m hot.”

“the only thing i’ve understood in is diana. don’t you just want a true, normal relationship?”

“i’m not looking for a relationship now,” says harry and quietly adds, “i’m too busy being lost to fall for someone new.”

“same here,” agrees louis. harry bites down on his bottom lip, stopping himself from smiling too hard. it is really easy talking to louis, unlike his assholes of friends. anything goes when he is with louis and he likes that.


	11. 0.10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mckenzie and harry go for their weekly pedicures....

harry now took any excuse to be with louis, loving the sense of calm (he does not want to use fluff) when around him. he uses the english gazette project they have to do for mrs maths class. they do spend more time together, in school, in the library, and sometimes on the football pitch with liam so that he would not look creepy. lately, louis invited him over to his house and he immediately recognized the neighbourhood, it is the same one that mckenzie drove them to some nights back.

they had finished for the day, still in louis’ house, and harry thought he should be leaving seeing as the tomlinson family came back from a shopping trip and were about to sit down for dinner. of course, he did not want to leave but he is just being polite by leaving. sometimes he hates being polite.

“i insist you should stay for dinner,” says louis holding the door open. harry turns on his heels to face louis, standing on their worn out doormat. there is that smell of burnt tyre again, harry groans on the inside.

“no, i should be leaving.”

“mama would love you for dinner, pasta is her secret recipe,” chuckles louis. “sometimes i think it’s the only thing she can cook.”

“i can hear you,” shouts his mother from inside the house. harry breaks into a laugh because really this family was too chill and he wishes his family was like louis’. wrapping his arm around harry’s shoulder, louis pulls him in for a hug. harry tenses under his touch and he immediately pulls back.

louis tugs at the hem of his shirt, rumbling nervously, “sorry i thought that it—hugs are a big thing…i’m actually a big believer in hugs—cameron taught me that…cam as he goes by. he is that guy from _modern family_ —”

“it’s not that,” he tells the rumbling nervous boy standing in front of his house, “i don’t actually _hug_ people, or anyone in general. you’re a big believer in hugs and i’m not. well not really, i mean, i don’t mind them it’s just that i don’t hug in general. stop me i feel like i’m rumbling because am i rumbling, i think i am...” he glances up at louis who has a sweet smile on his face.

“let’s make a deal styles,” louis says, stretching out his hand for harry, “we will both be huggers, deal?”

harry takes his hand into his own, chuckling to himself, and shakes it up and down. “deal, tomlinson.”

 

it is the middle of the school week when harry drives mckenzie for their weekly pedicures at the exclusive country club, sihaz london country. sitting on grey, leather seats, getting their toes done, they chatter about nothing and everything under the sun. or rather, harry is a little deep in thought about his current love life.

harry strikes the first question, “have you ever thought about, i don’t know, having someone who actually wants to be with you?”

“uh oh, is this about vanessa?” she asks. vanessa was harry’s old girlfriend, tall, and permanently with a tanned skin. she was nothing like his earlier girlfriends including kendall, brittany, taylor, and the other rich snobs. vanessa was from a humble background and a heart full of gold, with great legs and a spanish accent. she did not care much for harry’s riches such as the gifts he would always shower her with like cars, yatch expeditions, holidays in exotic islands such as st barth’s, exclusive watches with high carats that would make one’s head spin when they saw the price!

all she cared for was that harry was truly happy – whether he was sitting in his bentley, racing down the highway, or outside his pool taking a dip, or even in school when he would have a row with niall (which was often!), she made sure that he was happy. and by golly he was because he knew he did not have to put up a perfect front for her, he just had to be himself and that was enough for her.

unfortunately, his then ex-girlfriend ,taylor waldorf, was jealous. see, she had asked for a break from harry on their relationship but so soon was harry already dating _this_ vanessa girl. what did she do? niall made her leave harry. later harry found out that it was all taylor’s doing, thanks to daddy waldorf.

harry’s eyes are on his feet, watching them soaking in a bubbly bath. “so what?”

“so what harry?” mckenzie asks, almost _done_ with harry. she sets down her glass of wine. “she wasn’t what you thought she was. she was the same as us, stubborn, snobby and don’t forget loaded.”

“that’s what taylor made us all think,” explains harry. “she gave vanessa’s parents money for her brother’s cancer treatment thanks to daddy taylor.”

“but bank statements don’t lie.”

“exactly! that’s what she showed us but we never questioned vanessa why she had all that money.”

“because she was rich harry, you can hide money really well.”

“i blamed her for lying to me, screamed at her, told her to go to hell, when all she did was love me, see beyond my fucked life and still stay.” mckenzie sighs, harry telling she is annoyed with the same conversations they have about vanessa.

“agree to disagree,” she says.

“i was making a point in the beginning about finding love till you interrupted—”

“you brought up vanessa.”

ignoring her annoyance, he continues, “i think louis is like vanessa.”

“hmm, really why?”

“i don’t know, he seems different,” he hums. he quickly changes the subject before mckenzie can judge him again, “what color of nail polish are you getting?”

“devil’s red,” she beams. “you?”

“sky blue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now i want a hug from harry /=


	12. 0.11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis smells like lemons....

 

the semester is almost coming to a close, seeing as they have one week left (harry’s end of year party is tomorrow), harry takes it upon himself to use any excuse just to be with louis. now more than before because they are about to go on an easter break and harry does not think he can _live_ without seeing louis in school. yes, he really does feel that way even though he has done _jack_ to make it obvious to louis.

harry made dumb excuses to hear his voice such as “louis, have you printed page 8 of the gazette?”, “what font should we use for the title?”, “don’t you think we should write about parking lots?”, or his favorite where he lies about his middle name “louis my middle name is not henry, it’s donald”. louis would then go back, change harry’s middle name to donald, print the front page and show harry. what would harry do? lie again, and say his middle name is not “donald” but “mark”. soon, louis printed close to forty front pages with various middle names: paul, marty, james, daniel, nate, joshua, george, jon, juan, yes _juan_ because he was feeling mexican that day.

harry gets out of his beamer and walks up to louis’ front porch because really, his name is most definitely not troye. louis’ sister, lottie, answers the door, stands with her mouth hanging from her jaw, staring at harry, or the fact that there is a beamer in front of their house.

“is that a beamer?”

“uh yeah, yeah it is,” he tells her. he takes out his hand for lottie to shake, feeling a little odd from the little girl gawking at him. lottie takes it and almost melts at the softness of his palm. “is louis in?” he asks.

she has stars in her eyes. “who?”

louis appears from behind and swats her head. “me, dipshit! i live here too.”

“ever since you moved to the attic, you technically don’t live here,” lottie reasons, her eyes not leaving harry. louis moves, nay shoves her away from the door and does not care that she falls to the floor.

“hi!” he greets harry, “do you want to come in?”

“no, i won’t be long. i noticed that you typed my middle name wrong, it’s not troye it’s twain.”

“really?” louis asks, taking the new, revised gazette in his hands. he looks back up at harry. “if i’m not wrong, your middle name is edward. and yes i know this because i checked with the official school records.”

“uh.” he is too embarrassed. his throat is suddenly dry. his eyes dart left to right. _what should he do?_ “i…” he is speechless.

“what was your game plan styles?” smirks louis. harry remains quiet. “if i didn’t know better you just like having me around. before you ask, it was around the fourth time you told me your middle name was some other another name then i went to the reception to look up your real middle name. how did you even find all those names? and wayne, really, _wayne_?”

“hey!” he playfully swats louis’ bicep. “i was feeling hip hop-y that day. plus k thought it would be funny.”

“k?”

“mckenzie.”

“do you want to come in for dinner?”

a voice to louis right screams, “yes!” and louis immediately shushes his sister, “i ain’t fooking asking to you.” he turns to harry. “such a twat.”

harry smirks, “she isn’t bad. she seems nice.”

“oh my gosh!” the voice cries again, “harry just said i’m nice.”

“dickhead!” louis curses at her.

“louis!” the voice groans.

“go away or i’ll embarrass you like i did with liam,” he screams at her. he locks the door behind him and they are both standing on the front porch.

“liam?” asks harry. “as in liam payne?”

“she has a crush on him, but i’m thinking it’s you now,” he laughs.

 _i hope she’s not the only tomlinson_ , harry wishes. harry blinks, having not heard what louis has said. he asks him to repeat.

“i asked where are you going for easter break?”

“oh! i’m going to new york city,” he says smiling hard. he stops smiling realizing he might be sounding like a douche. oh gosh, is he a douche? “it’s a place near, uh, cheshire.”

“i know where new york city is idiot,” he snickers, “and i don’t mind if you are going. new york in the dark is beautiful, all the lights and whatnot.”

“you’ve been?”

“nah, i see pictures on tumblr. it’s magical.”

“oh.”

louis walks to where harry had been leaning against the fence by the door. harry feels his breath getting shorter, and harder to take in air. his ear tingles when louis reminds him that they are hug buddies but somehow they have never hugged after the deal they made.

“i do keep my promises,” harry defends himself. he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath when their skins brush against each other. he opens them again to find louis gazing up at him. “i… i’ve been swamped with work so we couldn’t hug and…”

“so let’s start right now?” he suggests. almost down in a whisper, harry tells him to lead. they both stand up straight and face each other. _this isn’t awkward._ louis takes a small step to him so that they are closer. wrapping an arm around harry’s shoulder, he pulls him down for a hug and with his other, he snakes his arm around harry’s shoulders.

feeling suspend in his arms, harry works on his breathing. his breathing is fine really but not his heartbeat. it goes from 0 to 100 real quick, even 300 if it were possible. he mentally slaps himself because he has not hugged him _yet_. it does not help matters that a flashback comes to mind: he is 13, home from school, happy he is the top student in his science class, and rushes to hug his mother and tell her the good news. what he undoubtedly remembers is his mother pushing him away from the hug, calling him a needy child.

“this is getting awkward cause you’re not hugging me back, and uncomfortable if you don’t do it soon,” louis whispers to harry’s neck.

“right,” he chuckles. he wraps louis body in his arms, his neck hanging from louis’ neck. he is pretty sure he is melting on the inside and his skin is just holding all the liquid of _fluff and asdfghjkl_. he notes louis smelling faintly of, what was it, rosemary? lavender? no, it’s lemon. yes he is positive, it’s lemon. “you smell like lemon.”

“it’s lottie,” he groans. his hot breath tingling his neck. “she sprayed it all over me and i’ve showered three times already but it’s still there.”

“you smell lovely,” harry slightly moans. he clears his throat. “it. it smells lovely.” louis grip around his shoulder tighter and then backs away from him. harry stops him by pulling him back to his chest and lightly digs his fingers into his shirt. they stay like this for one or two more seconds, and by that it feels like a couple hundred minutes to harry.

“longest hug i’ve ever had,” chuckles louis once they left go. harry grins, blowing air through his nose. “we should call the guinness records.”

“ha! i have them on speed dial.”

harry feels great when he leaves louis’ porch, even better when he drives off in his beamer and stops somewhere off a highway, and a sudden wave of unhappiness hits him when he is back on the highway, doing 250km/h trying to get his heart to beat as fast as it did when he was with louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry always has beautiful cars ! sometimes even hotter than HIM [;


	13. 0.12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry invites liam for a round of tennis....

**_ _ **

**_(liam beats harry in tennis matches with the scores 6-1, 7-0, and 5-3. they both sit down on the benches by the tennis court, relaxing at the country club sihaz london country.)_ **

**liam:** _(panting)_ you’re pathetic at tennis, you know that?

 **harry:** _(wiping sweat off his forehead with a towel)_ it’s agonizingly hot for may.

 **liam:** _(chuckles)_ blaming the sun? dick move h.

 **harry:** yeah, yeah. you weren’t stuck in st. barth’s the whole of easter so obviously you’ve been training.

 **liam:** _(pulls out a bottle of water from his bag)_ if you called me for swimming or something, then yeah, you would’ve won.

 **harry:** _(glancing at liam drinking water)_ next time i’m going to call you.

 **liam:** what’s going on? you called me out of the blue to come play tennis when you’re always back the exact week we start school from the holidays.

 **harry:** _(slightly panting)_ ivy leagues are hard, you know that.

 **liam:** _(unconvinced)_ bullshit h. it’s me, you don’t need to lie.

 **harry:** you’re right.

 **liam:** well? _(harry blushes, keeps quiet)_ does it have anything to do with the louis guy in our english class? _(cockily smiles)_ my best friend louis?

 **harry:** _(fake gasp)_ i thought i was your best friend?

 **liam:** _(shrugs)_ you moved down. i can’t be best friends with someone who sucks at tennis _(winks)_

 **harry:** _(smirks, turns thoughtful)_ why? why him though?

 **liam:** in the world we live in, ruled by bank accounts and blood lines, it pays to have a friend who is not wired by these rules. he doesn’t care about the payne name, or who i’m dating, which ivy i’ll be attending after i finish high school, my parents connections with the outside world, he is perfect. and i’m happy to call him my brother.

 **harry:** sounds perfect.

 **liam:** like vanessa.

 **harry:** don’t you ever think he’s using you because you know…

 **liam:** i did at first when he asked to borrow my ferrari. but that’s only cause later he explained his mother was in labor with the twins. other than that, he didn’t. plus he does not want to be part of our world anyhow.

 **harry:** _(curious)_ why?

 **liam:** you know why.

 **harry:** is…is he da-dating anyone?

 **liam:** right now, nope. he’s been single for a while _(sees harry’s lips tug upwards)_ not a lot of openly gay people in school.

 **harry:** there’s me.

 **liam:** you’re bi.

 **harry:** _(snorts)_ because that’s the issue?

 **liam:** you’re not as open about it as he is.

 **harry:** _(groans, gives up)_ ugh! fine. his exes?

 **liam:** _(perks up)_ oooh this sounds fun. his first girlfriend was some hannah girl, didn’t end well because he was auditioning for x factor to be a singer.

 **harry:** he sings?

 **liam:** yeah. then after, he dated _(shaking head)_ some briana j girl which was a horrible mistake _(yelps)_ oh no, before that was eleanor calder. she was gorgeous as hell. fuck, sometimes i would fuck her _(quickly adds)_ in my mind of course _(as if in a trance)_ in my mind _(harry clears throat)_ oh right, then they broke up. he came out of the closet, it didn’t end well. she outted him to the school and i then fucked her.

 **harry:** _(eyes bulging at liam, flabbergasted)_ what? when was this?

 **liam:** sometime last year. it was beautiful. i took her to the _(winking)_ four seasons and later…

 **harry:** _(rolls eyes)_ i meant louis being outted to the whole school _(adds quickly,winking)_ slut.

 **liam:** _(rolls eyes)_ last year, right about when niall’s parents were getting their divorce.

 **harry:** shit! i don’t even remember being in school that semester. oh yeah, i wasn’t. i was in australia with my father on a business trip. how did it go for him?

 **liam:** he was distraught for sure. he wasn’t ready for it, but here was eleanor forcing it out of him. and you know how people can be cruel in our school, words feel like swords piercing through your body. i found him, drunk as fuck, in his bed one morning _(sad)_ johannah, our mother _(harry frowns a little)_ told me he was bad and she asked me to help because nothing she could do helped him.

 **harry:** what did you do?

 **liam:** wrecked her. hard. i slept with her, told the school how she was a bulimic bitch who cummed the moment i touched her arm. i know it’s body shamming and all but _(weightily)_ she deserved it. of course, no guy would touch her after, i mean she was a virgin, an average student and owned a peugeot. who owns a peugeot in this day?

 **harry:** nobody we know _(pleased)_ and you were the man slut for like three weeks?

 **liam:** _(groans)_ that was embarrassing. but for louis, it meant nothing to me. i then made stupid comments about eleanor, leaked the video of the time she lost her virginity to me, and _(laughing)_ she made sheep noises when she was cumming.

 **harry:** _(laughing)_ gross!

 **liam:** i also got the whole school to bully her about it, and asked t to throw in a few punches. soon she had to leave the school. actually, she either could’ve gotten expelled, and it’s permanently on her record, or she not only leaves the school, but the country _(harry gapes)_ it was good times _(amused)_ one of the best high school memories i’ve ever had.

 **harry:** what has he done for you?

 **liam:** _(sincere)_ made me feel like i have a family. his family took me as one of their own.

 **harry:** _(deadpan)_ you have your own parents.

 **liam:** you treat mckenzie like she’s your own sister, while forgetting you have your very own blood sister gemma who is in _(harry’s jaw tenses, stops himself from continuing)_ i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bring it up. why are we even talking about louis? _(harry remains silent)_ do you like him?

 **harry:** _(rumbles)_ i like all my friends _(unsure)_ at least i think we’re friends. i’ve never asked. _(whisper)_ we hugged.

 **liam:** _(surprised)_ what? you hugged? _(gawked)_ you hugged another person?

 **harry:** _(beams, soft laughter)_ yeah and it was amazing. i mean, it was awkward at first, like i was asking for a blowjob.

 **liam:** _(wriggles eyebrows)_ what you really wanted?

 **harry:** _(pushes him off the bench, liam catches himself in time)_ shut up! but seriously, it was nice. soft. normal even _(turns to face liam)_ we don’t even hug though.

 **liam:** because you flinch every time i hug you. remember last time you literally pushed me into your pool when i did. so i stopped. but i’m proud of you h, it’s seriously a big step in your life.

 **harry:** thanks.

 **liam:** _(clears throat)_ h listen, you should stop being afraid to open up. i promise that not everyone will love you with a knife behind their back.

 **harry:** you did.

 **liam:** and i’m terribly sorry about it.

 **harry:** i forgave you a long time ago but—

 **liam:** _(interrupts)_ he’s a good kid. if you like him, don’t drag him along for the sake of it because you’ll just be hurting him. and i’m not sure i’ll be rooting for you when he’s in his attic crying himself to sleep because of a snob asshole you were.

 **harry:** _(slightly hurt)_ so you’ll choose him over me?

 **liam:** he’s all i’ve got harry. you too have hurt me before and yes he’s hurt me too because what friendship doesn’t have obstacles but i know i’m a dick for saying this but i’d choose him over you.

 **harry:** _(jaw clenched)_ yeah, you are a dick _(relaxes)_ but i get it. i understand. _(blue)_ i would choose anyone over me.

 **liam:** _(lightening the mood)_ i hope whoever you choose is good at tennis _(harry smiles, grabs his tennis racket off the ground)_ if it helps, i’d choose you second.

 **harry:** what happened to eleanor?

 **liam:** _(shrugs)_ i don’t know. if she comes back, i’ll hurt her even twice than i did before. and i would in a heartbeat.

 **harry:** call me next time _(winks, liam gawks_ ) i’ll be there. now c’mon _(grabs his tennis racket),_ i’ve got to win the next match so you can finally get me the bmw.

 **liam:** _(scoffs, walking to other side of the tennis court, harry walking in the opposite side)_ you wish h!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoot !


	14. 0.13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taylor, niall & harry in chemistry....

**_ _ **

**_(harry, taylor and niall are in the chemistry lab, working on mixing solutions that mr history has left them to work on)_ **

**taylor:** _(turns around in chair to harry behind her)_ harry _(harry ignores her, sighs)_ i just want to say i’m sorry that i cheated on you with niall, _(quietly)_ and zayn, but i really am. no one is ever as loving and caring as you and i would like to have you back.

 **niall:** _(turns around in seat, had been listening to taylor’s apology)_ tiall is no more.

 **harry:** tiall?

 **taylor:** yeah, our ship name.

 **niall:** i prefer naylor.

 **taylor:** yuck! it’s disgusting _(turns to harry)_ do you forgive me?

 **harry:** i don’t care.

 **niall:** neither do i because this conversation is making me snore. like it has the 20 times you’ve cheated on harry.

 **taylor:** accidents.

 **niall:** and he always forgives you. or will he?

 **taylor:** of course he does.

 **niall:** rumor has it that he’s with louis now. larry as they call it.

 **taylor:** _(sneers)_ what the shit is larry?

 **niall:** it’s harry and louis combined together _(turns to harry)_ it’s revolting.

 **harry:** you can walk away.

 **taylor:** so what? _(rushing)_ are you together? dating now? _(pauses, inhales)_ i knew you were gay _(exhales)_ but not like _this_ gay? you said that you weren’t sure you were even gay and suddenly _(glares)_ this louis person comes out of nowhere and you’re sure that you’re gay?

 **harry:** well i did tell you i was bisexual but you were drunk, and wouldn’t listen.

 **niall:** so larry is real? we all wanna know.

 **taylor:** _(curtly)_ no we don’t.

 **niall:** shut up taytay, i’m not talking to you. i’m talking to me mate styles.

 **harry:** _(harsh)_ it’s harry _(niall blinks, waits for harry to talk)_ and no we aren’t dating, we’re just friends.

 **niall:** nobody is just friends with harry. either you’re prepping him for sex, _(stretches)_ orrrrrrrr nothing really.

 **taylor:** so now you’re into men because i cheated you?

 **niall:** gay sex is pretty fun you know _(taylor turns to niall, her mouth in a snarl)_ what? gay sex is pretty fun. i mean all the girls in this school are all the same in bed: boring.

 **taylor:** i’m not boring!

 **niall:** yes you are _(raspy, flirty)_ you’re just good with that thing with your leg and your purrs.

 **taylor:** _(trying hard not to smile, husky voice)_ and i can do that all over again if you want.

 **niall:** _(excited)_ babe you’re getting me hard.

 **harry:** it’s not sex with louis. we are just _(finding the words)_ plain friends.

 **niall:** _(frowns)_ well that’s…boring.

 **taylor:** _(to niall)_ so are you gay or what?

 **niall:** no. i can never give up on the ladies, they love the nialler irish charm _(winks)_

 **taylor:** ew, that’s just gross.

 **niall:** worked on you _(harry rolls his eyes_ ) that’s not the point. where’s zayn? been worried about him.

 **taylor:** did you hear _(niall shakes his head, harry stops pouring the colorless liquid into a beaker and looks up at taylor)_ that zayn’s dad is going broke? like losing millions because the stock market isn’t doing well?

 **niall:** is that true?

 **taylor:** their house is on mortgage, they had to sell all their cars they only have the range, they fired all their maids…

 **niall:** _(interrupts, shocked)_ what?

 **harry:** _(surprised)_ what?

 **taylor:** yeah, why are you guys surprised, i mean zayn had it coming. he started getting tattoos, dating gigi, missing classes, hitching rides from all of us to go to school, sneaking around and being generally dodgy?

 **niall:** makes sense.

 **harry:** _(worried)_ where is he?

 **taylor:** _(shrugs)_ i don’t know. gigi should know.

 **niall:** she doesn’t, that’s why she was asking me.

 **taylor:** _(loud sigh)_ i’m bored already.

 **harry:** _(blank)_ so am i. shouldn’t you be working before mr history comes back?

 **niall:** i don’t know what the fuck i’m mixing, waiting for alicia _(points to his back to a short girl_ ) to finish.

 **taylor:** _(turns to harry)_ is it true though, that your father is facing charges? _(niall bulges his eyes, mouth agape)_ of fraud, corruption and embezzlement?

 **niall:** shit.

 **harry:** _(does not know about it but pretends he knows)_ it’s fine. he’ll work it all out with the lawyers.

 **taylor:** he could be facing years for this. remember last time when he was facing the same charges and it all suddenly went away?

 **harry:** _(gulps)_ your father, the biggest and most sought out lawyer in the whole of uk, helped us and i’m forever grateful but—

 **taylor:** and it can, again _(evil smile on her face)_ all you need to is say the word.

 **harry:** _(pauses, thinking, sighs)_ fine _(louder sigh)_ we’re back together only and only if you make the charges go away.

 **niall:** _(sarcastic)_ great. haylor is back together _(taylor smiles brightly)_ and all your problems are gone and humanity is restored once again. i still don’t understand how you guys break up, something happens in your father’s company harry, and then haylor is back together thanks to daddy waldorf.

 **taylor:** not quite _(tough)_ smash the larry rumors and make sure haylor is the most popular couple in school, like always. i don’t know what you have to do, buy me a car, a yatch holiday in sicily _(swats the air)_ do something.

 **harry:** we already are going to jo’burg in the summer.

 **taylor:** i need to know you love me and not some boy who lives in an attic.

 **niall _:_** _(sees harry take a sharp breath, curls fingers and knuckles turn white, speaks first before harry says something he will regret)_ you two are dating already so what else do you want? _(harry secretly smiles, niall nods and winks)_

 **taylor:** fine. i’m happy, harry’s happy, and so is niall who is dating some trisha girl.

 **harry:** _(murmurs)_ happy alright.

 **niall:** she’s more my type anyway. i’m into redheads more than blonds.

 **taylor:** yuck. but i wanna meet my downgrade.

 **niall:** she’s hotter than you, most definitely. she came to harry’s gatsby party.

 **harry:** she did what? who did she come with?

 **niall:** louis _(taylor growls)_ but that was a long time ago, right?

 **harry:** yeah, yeah it was. but i don’t even remember that night. i was too hammered and pissed.

 **taylor:** and another suicide attempt? _(rolls eyes, turns around in her seat to face the front)_ tell us something new.

 **niall _:_** _(raises his voice)_ like where is zayn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like january all over again with the hendall yatch photos -,-


	15. 0.14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis schools harry on classical movies....

louis opens the door to find harry standing in front of him, with something in his hands. louis cheerfully greets him, and hugging him tightly as part of their deal. harry mumbles that they need to change their work project for mrs maths class, adding hastily that they are behind on their work and finishing off by saying they should meet up after school to start right away.

louis chuckles to himself, seeing right through his plan. “well you may come in but we should watch _the notebook_ first.”

“what’s that, a documentary?” asks harry. he takes off his shoes and remains in his grey socks.

“nope,” louis smiles. “it’s a beautiful love story about two people who were meant to be together, and do—”

“don’t spoil it,” harry tells him. “i’ve not watched this romantic tale.”

louis makes his way to the living room and harry takes a sharp breath. it is messy: the couches did not seem to be aligned, there are many pillows on the floor, couple of dead plants by the wall, the carpet has a stain on it (looks like ketchup), the curtains do not match, and is that a puppy on the window pane?

“is that your puppy?” he asks. he tries his best not to show his disgust because what is that awful smell?

“yeah, and sorry about the mess. we are training her and lately she’s been peeing everywhere,” apologizes louis. he points to the couch for harry to sit. “i promise she did not pee on the couch,” laughs louis, “or else my mom would’ve told us she is going back to the pet shop.”

harry nods and makes his way to the couch as louis flips through his dvd set looking for _the notebook_. he shouts to no one in particular asking for the movie. a second later, a voice shouts to look beneath the tv stand, the second one shouts to find it beside the window, the next one asks if they have seen the car keys, the last one says it is up in her room and louis groans excusing himself to go upstairs.

he comes back down, the movie on him and three minutes later the both of them are on the couch. harry is hugging one of the pillows that were on the floor and louis’ feet propped up on the couch. in between the movie, harry makes quick glances to louis and he swears he is secretly crying. louis too glances at harry and he quickly turns his head to the tv with a blush on his cheeks.

“i see why it’s a classic,” says harry when the credits are rolling.

“i don’t know how you’ve never watched one. the classics are _titanic, the notebook, a walk to remember…_ ”

“ _titanic_ has leonardo dicaprio right?” asks harry. louis nods. “oh good, at least i know _something_. but all the classics sound like hopeless romantic movies.”

“they are but these ones are better than _twilight_ or _fifty shades_ which do not represent what love truly is.

harry laughs, “what? are you those people who believe in love at first sight?”

“stop teasing,” pouts louis. he slaps harry arm when he continues taunting him on the idea of love being fluff. “just because i focus on the rose instead of the thorns doesn’t mean i don’t know what love is. i know it’s tough but don’t you love the idea of love at first sight? instantly having a connection with someone?”

harry shakes his head. “i don’t believe that. i believing in seeing someone from across the room and knowing instantly that they’re going to matter to me.”

“did you ever feel that way about someone before?”

“i did. vanessa. but everything ends, people forget about love and focus on who your parents are, bank accounts, who you’re sleeping with, what car you’re driving down the road, where you live, or where you’ll be on a saturday night.”

“it shouldn’t be like that,” louis tells him. he gets off the couch and beckons for harry to follow him to the kitchen.

“what are we doing?”

“making microwave popcorn,” he tells him. “you don’t think we’re going to watch the classics on an empty stomach?”

“is that popcorn?” asks fizzy, popping into the kitchen.

“no,” louis tells her. “it’s for me and harry. plus didn’t i say that you need to buy ten packets of popcorn? you only bought two.”

“greg came over yesterday and we ate them.”

“all eight?” asks louis surprised. harry chuckles because really this is funny. he gets a sense of a homey feel and he enjoys it. everything feels warm and loving here. “who eats eight packets of popcorn?”

“greg loves food!” fizzy defends. “plus he’s upstairs right now and hungry.”

louis opens the popcorn bag and the seeds spill into the bowl. “tell your fooking boyfriend this isn’t a fridge house where he just eats anything all the time.”

“your boyfriend is eating our food,” fizzy says, pointing with a thumb to harry. louis shuts the microwave door and rests his back to the counter.

“he’s not my boyfriend, he’s a just friend and he’s never eaten in this house before.”

“whatever.”

“why can’t he buy food for you for once?” asks louis.

“he’s 14 as well louis, where is he getting the money from?”

“i can pay for whatever he needs,” harry chips in. fizzy cheers and louis shakes his head. “it’s not a big deal.”

“no harry, it’s fine really. fizzy just needs to learn how to not eat people’s popcorns and tell her boyfriend to get a fooking job.”

“well, they can eat the popcorns and we can order whatever you want,” proposes harry. fizzy cheers rushing to give harry a hug. she plants a kiss on his cheek, still reeling. “we can’t watch all those movies on an empty stomach.” louis sighs in defeat because he did have a point.

“i like this one,” fizzy tells louis. half an hour later, with two large pizza boxes in louis’ attic, they settle on his bed, louis stating that the floor does get cold after a while.

“you should get a heater in here,” suggests harry. he plops himself under the covers with louis. the doncaster boy rolls his eyes and presses play to _titanic_. “i’m serious.”

“do you want socks?” asks louis, munching on his pizza. harry nods his head and louis, once again, rolls his eyes. he grabs one pair of socks, before pressing pause on the film. “legs.” harry smiles up at louis while his feet are out of the covers. louis puts the socks on his feet and finally they start the movie again.

“all warm?” asks louis. he slides down the bed and rests his head on louis shoulder, and his feet propped on top of louis’ under the covers.

“very.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the cinderella movie was AMAZING! i'd watch it anyday, all day if i could. it was awesome [=


	16. 0.15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the squad go on their group chat one fine school night....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was laughing halfway at writing this chapter. plus the way in which harry is photographed on his phone gives me breathiNG ISSUES O:

** **

**HARRY** _changes subject to **TIALL DRUNk again =/**_

 

**LIAM:** Why?!

 

**HARRY** _has removed **TAYTAY** from the conversation_

 

**HARRY:** Help me!!

**GIGI:** hi (:

**LIAM:** Where are you?

**ZAYN:** im watching BBT and sheldon made a good point, why do men have nipples?

**GIGI:** \:

**HARRY:** -……...-

**LIAM:** Are you high again?

**HARRY:** Why else?

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **IM NTO DRIN**_

 

**GIGI:** drink*

**LIAM:** drunk*

**GIGI:** DRUNK*

**HARRY:** Doesn’t matter if he’s drunk or high, he’ll be asking us questions all night.

**LIAM:** Where are you?

**HARRY:** Chaperoning Niall and Taylor in my house. They went out to Brittany’s party on getting a new dog and came to my house like 1 hour ago drunk af.

**ZAYN:** TIALL FOREVER!

**LIAM:** Why your place?

**HARRY:** Apparently Taylor can’t go home because her parents are still arguing and screaming at each about who to have custody over. And Niall… I didn’t even listen as to why he’s here.

**NIALLER:** I’m your friend.

**LIAM:** Hi Neil!

**NIALLER:** Niall*

 

**HARRY** _has removed **NIALLER** from the conversation_

 

**LIAM:** What are they doing?

**LIAM:** Louis says hi.

**HARRY:** What?

**HARRY:** Really? What did he say?

**LIAM:** He says “HI!”

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **I’M NTO DRUNK**_

 

**LIAM:** NOT*

**HARRY:** Say hi back. What is he doing?

**GIGI:** #creepyalert

**HARRY:** I’m not. He’s my friend and I want to make sure he is safe.

**LIAM:** “safe”

**HARRY:** Yeah, safe. Like you, are you safe?

**HARRY:** Is Gigi safe?

**HARRY:** And Zayn?!

**GIGI:** he is (:

**LIAM:** Sure sure. He is “safe” as you say. Do you want his number you ask himself yourself?

**HARRY:** No. I mean, do you have it?

**LIAM:** Of course I do, what friend would I be?

**HARRY:** Okay. Give me it.

**LIAM:** HA! NEVER!!

**LIAM:** GET IT YOURSELF!!

**HARRY:** -………..-

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **SORE LOSER HARRY xD**_

 

**GIGI:** ahahahhahahahahhahahha

**HARRY:** Honestly Lima Bean!!!

**LIAM:** Don’t worry, your BOYFRIEND is safe. He’s looking up photos of Divock Origi.

**HARRY:** Why?

**LIAM:** Idk

**HARRY:** Did you guys notice how loud Taylor is? And now she is dancing on the dining table blasting Disclosure’s album!!

**LIAM:** She can dance?

**GIGI:** ahahahhahhahahahha

**LIAM:** Love the album BTW! I feel like Lorde was on that album but I’m not sure.

**HARRY:** Who’s Lorde?

**HARRY:** And now screaming at the top of her lungs. And now she is throwing cereals across the kitchen like a nutbag.

**GIGI:** she is in the song “Magnets” (:

**LIAM:** Send me that song G!!

 

**ZAYN** _has added **TAYTAY** to the conversation_

 

**HARRY:** ZAYN!

**TAYTAY:** Harry is the wooooooorst guest ever! He isn’t letting us have wine from his mother’s cellar.

**LIAM:** How could you Harry ;}

**HARRY:** Shut up Lima Bean!

**LIAM:** It sounds like Harry’s having a party, amirite T?

**TAYTAY:** I want wine Harry. Go fetch us wine. Niall and me are in the pool waiting for you.

**ZAYN:** party?

**HARRY:** No!

**HARRY:** And get out of the pool, you’ll drown.

**TAYTAY:** Your dumb maid is very nice in watching us.

**TAYTAY:** Now Niall has left the pool/:

**GIGI:** *attached music file 7.7MB*

**TAYTAY:** PLEASE HARRY COME IN THE POOL, I’M VERY LONELY.

**LIAM:** Yeah Harry, go save your damsel in distress!!!!

**LIAM:** Thanks G!!

**HARRY:** TAYLOR WALDORF GET OUT OF THE POOL! Niall is calling you anyway.

**ZAYN:** dope song girlfriend (:

**GIGI:** thanks boyfriend (:

**TAYTAY:** What does he want? If it’s sex I don’t want it. Only want your dick Styles.

**ZAYN:** AYYYYYYYYYYYYY

**GIGI:** hahahahhahahahahha

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **DICK TOSSING**_

 

**HARRY:** What is dick tossing?

**LIAM:** Idk but T is going to ride that dick tonight.

**TAYTAY:** RIDE IT HARD ABBY

**TAYTAY:** ABBY*

**TAYTAY:** BBY*

**TAYTAY:** BABE*

**TAYTAY:** BABYY*

**TAYTAY:** BEB*

**ZAYN:** BB*

**TAYTAY:** what’s BB?

**GIGI:** baby (:

**HARRY:** BABY**

**TAYTAY:** Yes darling? =]

**TAYTAY:** What kind of song is called MAGNETS???

 

**HARRY** _has removed **TAYTAY** from the conversation_

 

**LIAM:** Oh SNAAAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**HARRY:** I’m going to put her to bed.

**LIAM:** What? Don’t do that!! She’s so much fun!!

**ZAYN:** to ride that dick liam (;

**LIAM:** AYYYYYY

 

**ZAYN** _has added **TAYTAY** to the conversation_

 

**HARRY:** >:( ZAYN MALIK!

**TAYTAY:** I can’t find Niall =”(

**HARRY:** He’s passed out on the floor in the kitchen. Come inside Taylor.

**TAYTAY:** If you promise to give me wine. And play “Magnets” on the speakers.

**LIAM:** Us*

**GIGI:** wine for everyone PLEASE (:

**TAYTAY:** dick*

**LIAM:** Oh

**GIGI:** :o well…

**HARRY:** Ask Niall.

**TAYTAY:** But he’s passed out. And we haven’t had sex in a long time.

**LIAM:** I don’t think T is into necrophilia Harry :}

**TAYTAY:** Remember we were supposed to do that thing you promised me?

**HARRY:** Not with you. And I’m playing the damn song, now get out of the pool!!

**TAYTAY:** But you’re my boyfriend. You’re meant to give me pleasure.

**GIGI:** (;

**TAYTAY:** Stop teasing me and start pleasing me =*

**TAYTAY:** Is this Lorde singing in the song?

**LIAM:** It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes!!

**HARRY:** tayLOR YOU’RE DRUNK!! GO TO SLEEP

**TAYTAY:** WAAAY ahead of you Liam ;]

**ZAYN:** give up the dick first harry styles!!

**LIAM:** 8====D

**ZAYN:** 8==D

**GIGI:** we aren’t sure but it sounds like Lorde

**TAYTAY:** 8===========D

**HARRY:** -……….-

**LIAM:** Give her the D harreh, don’t hold back!!!

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **HARRY’S 8===D**_

 

**HARRY** _has removed **ZAYN** from the conversation_

 

**TAYTAY** _changes the subject to **ITS BIGGER ZAYN 8========D**_

 

**GIGI** _has added **ZAYN** to the conversation_

 

**LIAM:** AHAHHAHAHAHHAHA

 

**HARRY** _has removed **TAYTAY** from the conversation_

 

**HARRY:** Finally she’s asleep! Some peace and quiet in here.

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **SCREW HARRY**_

 

**GIGI** _changes the subject to **YES PLEASE, SAYS TAYLOR**_

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **NICE AND SLOW HARRY?**_

 

**K** _changes the subject to **FAST AND FURIOUS TAYTAY ;)**_

 

**HARRY:** K? You were here the whole time?!

**LIAM:** AHAHAHAHHAH

**K:** YEAH. I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GO TO BED UNTIL I GOT LIKE 39523 UNREAD MESSAGES ABOUT nothing.

**K:** MAGNETS IS MY JAM!!!!!

**LIAM:** Aren’t you at Harry’s?

**GIGI:** “dancing past the point of no return” a story by Tiall in Harry’s house

**ZAYN:** hahahhahaha

**LIAM:** LMAO

**HARRY:**.____.

**K:** NOPE. AT KENDALL’S RIGHT NOW. WHY DIDN’T YOU COME FOR BRITT’S PARTY GUYS?

**HARRY:** Busy

**LIAM:** Doing Louis ;))))

**HARRY:** LIAM!

**ZAYN:** busy letting taylor ride that dick!

**LIAM:** Did I miss anything at the party?

**HARRY:** ….._.....

**K:** NOPE. BUT TAYTAY KEPT ASKING FOR HARRY THE WHOLE TIME \\\\\

**K:** :\\\\\\*

**K:** WHAT IS THAT H?

**LIAM:** Looks like tears flowing horizontally!

**K:** ….._..... IT DOESN’T LOOK BAD THOUGH

**ZAYN:** ….._.....

**HARRY:** -………-

**K:** GOODNIGHT! GOTTA BE UP EARLY TOMORROW.

**GIGI:** night (:

**LIAM:** It’s only 11:46

**K:** YEAH WELL, KENDALL HAS LIKE 15 PEOPLE OVER AT HER HOUSE AND I NEED TO GET INTO THE SHOWER BEFORE anyone ELSE DOES IN THE MORNING

**HARRY:** Yuck.

**LIAM:** Alright. Goodnight Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs have sex with you

**HARRY:** Finally Taylor is completely asleep!!! HORRAH FOR ME

**LIAM:** Is Niall still on the floor??

**HARRY:** Naah, I put him in the guest room.

**ZAYN:** goodnight

**LIAM:** Goodnight Z!

**ZAYN:** I was telling Mckenzie.

**LIAM:** G, do you have the song “Omen”?

**HARRY:** She’s gone to sleep Zayn Malik.

**GIGI:** *attached music file 8.9MB*

**LIAM:** Thanks G

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **GOODNIGHT MCKENZIE**_

 

**GIGI:** Goodnight babe *:

**LIAM:** What is that?

**GIGI:** kissy emoji *: *:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:

**LIAM:** IT’S “:*” not “*:”

**ZAYN:** *:

**LIAM:** HAHAHAH

**HARRY:** “Omen” is actually a cool song.

**LIAM:** I’m looking through Louis’ New Year resolutions and they’re hilarious.

**GIGI:** (:

**HARRY:** What are they? :D

**LIAM:** Look who’s happy now!

**HARRY:** What are they? :DD

**LIAM:** 1\. Do the things you used to talk about doing but never did

**LIAM:** 2\. Download 50 Cent’s new album

**LIAM:** 3\. Don’t be intimidated to say it like it is

**ZAYN:** hahaha isn’t 50 dead?

**LIAM:** 4\. Stop apologizing

**HARRY:** No Zayn.

**LIAM:** 5\. Be more sexy

**LIAM:** 6\. Learn to ice skate

**LIAM:** 7\. Be more concerned with being interested than being interesting.

**LIAM:** 8\. Stretch everything

**LIAM:** 9\. Learn to cook something other than pasta

**HARRY:** Stretch what?

**GIGI:** good question harry (;

**LIAM:** 10\. Stay out later than you should

**LIAM:** What’s with the winky face Gigi?

**LIAM:** 11\. Life is too short to be anything but happy

**LIAM:** 12\. Get out of the Selena Gomez fandom

**LIAM:** 13\. Go to church!!

**GIGI:** Louis is a selenator? he’s perfect! ((:

**LIAM:** 14\. Listen to DJ Khaled’s keys to success.

**GIGI:** hahahahhahahhahah ((((:

**HARRY:** Who’s DJ Khaled?

**LIAM:** 15\. Finally know who I am

**ZAYN:** hahahA Khaled’s keys to success are hilarious11

**ZAYN:**!!*

**LIAM:** 16\. Stop smoking. This isn’t happening ever!!

**LIAM:** Ah shit! Louis caught me typing them out. Now he’s taken the list

**ZAYN:** he smokes?!?

**LIAM:** Cigarettes not weed

**GIGI:** ):

**HARRY:** Quite a list!! I should also learn to cook.

**ZAYN:** He should join the mile high club (;

**GIGI:** (;

**LIAM:** You can make hot milk.

**HARRY:** HOT MILK? -………..- It’s not something to brag about. Like to cook pasta, beef, fish rice, toast, egg, what else do people cook?

**LIAM:** Idk because I’ll never set foot in a kitchen because I have cooks for that. Later, get a wife who’ll then get cooks to be cooking for me

**GIGI:** you don’t “cook” toast harry |:

**HARRY:** It’s good to learn.

**LIAM:** To cook toast?

**HARRY:** Plus it’s a little sexist

**LIAM:** sexist schmexist

**HARRY:** No! Of course not. To cook something new is good to learn. Like one of those “general knowledge” stuff.

**LIAM:** Hire someone to do that H!

**ZAYN:** have you guys noticed anything weird about the words: sand, sea

**GIGI:** no.

**HARRY:** sand and sea?

**LIAM:** Reminds me of the beach. But nothing weird about them.

**ZAYN:** land

**HARRY:** What?

**LIAM:** I’m confused now.

**LIAM:** G, can you send me “Molecules”?

**ZAYN:** sand, sea and land

**HARRY:** Is this a riddle?

**GIGI:** *attached music file 9.1MB*

**LIAM:** Thanks G!

**LIAM:** I have no idea. But what do the three words have in common?

**GIGI:** theyre all on earth (:

**LIAM:** Oh !! Wow G! I had no idea that land, sea and sand were on earth !! Tell me more !!

**GIGI:** |:

**HARRY:** LOL

**GIGI:** babe, what’s the weird thing?

**LIAM:** SAND, SEA, LAND

**LIAM:** I don’t see anything that links them together…

**HARRY:** I get it! I’ve seen it.

**GIGI:** what?

**HARRY:** Sea and land combine to make sand.

**LIAM:** What?

**HARRY:** sea + land = sand !

**GIGI:** hahahahhahahahhaha

**ZAYN:** bingo!

**LIAM:** You were waiting for us to solve this Z?

**ZAYN:** girlfriend send me “afterthought”

**LIAM:** YES! SEND **US** THE SONG

**HARRY:** me*

**HARRY:** Waiting for ME to solve it because I’m a genius.

**HARRY:** And stop sending songs! They keep automatically downloading onto my phone.

**LIAM:** Disclosure is sick H, what you on about?

**GIGI:** (((((((:

**ZAYN:** the best liam

**LIAM:** Ahh shit Louis is mad because the light on my phone keeps waking him up.

**LIAM:** So goodnight lads.

**HARRY:** Stop pouting liam! Suck it up because you’re not as smart as me

**HARRY:** Is he sleeping well? Did he brush his teeth? What does he wear to bed?

**GIGI:** #creepyalert

**LIAM:** *ignores the questions* ….._.....

**HARRY:** Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmaaaaaaaa Beeeeeeeeeeean

**HARRY:** We will never speak of that emoji!!

**LIAM:** goodnight G

**ZAYN:** ….._.....

**GIGI:** goodnight babe *:

**HARRY:** Does he snore??

**LIAM:** Goodnight Z

**HARRY:** LIMA BEAN!!!!

 

**ZAYN** _changes the subject to **#CREEPYALERTHARRY**_

 

**GIGI:** hahahaha (((((:

**HARRY:** I’M NOT CREEPY. I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF HE SNORES!

 

**ZAYN** _has removed **HARRY** from the conversation_

 

**GIGI:** ahhahahah poor harry

**ZAYN:** does he snore though?

**LIAM:** Nope. He’s a light sleeper and his mouth is slightly parted

**GIGI:** harry would swoon at this! (:

 

**LIAM** _has added **HARRY** to the conversation_

 

**HARRY** _changes subject to **DOES HE SNORE?**_

 

**LIAM:** I’M GOING TO SHOW LOUIS THIS CONVERSATION IF YOU KEEP ASKING!!

**HARRY:** No! :O Don’t!

**LIAM:** Night H ;}

**HARRY:** JUST TELL ME PLEASE

 

**ZAYN** _has removed **HARRY** from the conversation_


	17. 0.16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis drops off lottie at the cinema, meets harry at the sports store accidentally....

** scene 1 **

 

**_ _ **

**_(louis and lottie are walking towards the cinema halls at the mall on a sunny sunday)_ **

**louis:** you are absolutely not going to the cinema because you know what exactly mama will say.

 **lottie:** _(stops walking, turns to face louis_ ) that’s why i called you here _(louis frowns)_ i am going to watch a movie with my friends and my boyfriend, greg, while you hang around and do stuff.

 **louis:** do stuff ?

 **lottie:** then we will meet in a couple of hours, go home, tell mama that we went shopping. _(hands him a sticky note)_ on this list are a couple of things you need to buy to make it believable.

 **louis:** _(looks down at the list on the sticky note)_ what i’m i supposed to do with tennis balls ? _(looks up, lottie has ran off to meet with her friends, grumbles_ ) great _(to himself)_ all because i got drunk on a school night, called mama and then she deleted the voicemail before mama could see it.

##  scene 2

**louis:** _(walks into a sports shop, looks around looking for tennis balls, spots a shop attendant)_ ex-excuse me, hi.

 **shop attendant:** hello sir, how may i help you?

 **louis:** i’m looking for tennis balls.

 **shop attendant:** _(pointing behind him with her palm)_ over there sir

 **louis:** thank you _(walks in the same direction, spots harry at the tennis balls section)_ buy it _(harry turns around startled)_ the green one is perfect.

 **harry:** _(chuckles)_ hi louis _(leans down to give him a hug for a few seconds, backs away, smiles)_ nice surprise to see you here.

 **louis:** surprise is right, i don’t usually buy sports stuff.

 **harry:** why are you here though?

 **louis:** fooking blackmail _(harry does not understand, coughs)_ why are you buying tennis balls?

 **harry:** i wrecked niall’s balls _(louis snickers)_ not like that. i tore them by accident so now i have to buy him new ones or else he’s going to take one of my dad’s cars as compensation.

 **louis:** cars?

 **harry:** _(nods)_ yup. i need specific balls though

 **louis:** lime green? _(harry nods and smirking_ ) my sister said the more green it is the better _(picks up a container containing three tennis balls)_ and these look lime green to me.

 **harry:** _(hesitant)_ they don’t look so green, they look almost like a normal green _(louis shoves a container into his hand)_ what are you doing?

 **louis:** _(walking away)_ going to pay for _(winks)_ my balls _(harry chuckles and follows suit)_

##  scene 3

**harry:** since you said you’re waiting for your sister to watch her movie, we can, uh, _(louis makes eye contact, harry turns to look elsewhere, mumbling)_ go shopping

 **louis:** shopping for what?

 **harry:** i need new shirts _(louis nods, he sighs a sigh of relief as louis is open to his suggestion)_ we can start with yves saint laurent.

 **louis:** cool _(following harry’s lead)_ i usually go to adidas or gap.

 **harry:** gap? that’s an actual shop?

 **louis:** _(rolling his eyes)_ honestly _(walk into a yves saint laurent shop)_ why do you need new shirts anyhow?

 **harry:** _(lies)_ uh, i’ve worn all the other shirts in my closet so i need new ones, obviously.

 **shop attendant:** hello sirs, how may i help you?

 **harry:** harry styles.

 **shop attendant:** _(eyes widen and jaw hangs, louis furrows eyebrows, blushes)_ of course. mr styles! welcome, welcome. right this way _(harry and louis follow her)_

 **louis:** _(whispers)_ how does she know who you are?

 **harry:** i’m sort of a loyal customer.

 **louis:** what does that mean?

 **shop attendant:** _(blushing)_ we have the, uh, shirts you asked for on hold.

 **harry:** _(winks)_ thanks sandra.

 **shop attendant:** _(blushes)_ call if you need anything mr styles. enjoy the wine, it’s on the house _(walks away)_

 **louis:** _(mocking)_ enjoy the wine mr styles

 **harry:** _(laughs)_ enjoy it _(sips)_ it’s golden.

 **louis:** _(sits on a burgundy chair)_ so what happens now? you try on a few clothes, sipping wine, ask _(mocking voice)_ sandra _(harry smirks)_ to fetch more shirts for you, and she’ll be running around this shop for the next two hours because you prefer red flowers over yellow ones. or rather because it wasn’t silky enough.

 **harry:** i see you’ve been hanging out with liam a lot.

 **louis:** not really. try my sister. shopping is not really my thing. and speaking of, she did ask me to get a shirt but from burberry _(to himself)_ how can she afford these things?

 **harry:** at least someone in the tomlinson family has good taste.

 **louis:** _(throws a shirt at him)_ hey! i have great taste in clothes.

 **harry:** prove it.

 **louis:** i’ll _(pauses, smirks)_ i’ll help you choose a shirt.

 **harry:** shirts _(holds up six fingers)_ i need six shirts. and deal.

 **louis:** _(gets off the couch, walks to a clothes hanger and picks out one black-dotted shirt_ ) this one?

 **harry:** too bland. i need some color.

 **louis:** _(picks another, more colourful)_ this one is great. i feel like puking just by looking at it.

 **harry:** honesty, i like that _(takes a sip of wine)_ but pick another, not colourful enough.

**_(dozen shirt pickings later)_ **

**louis:** _(huffs)_ i’m pretty sure you love all these 200 hundred shirts so just pick six let’s go. i’m already hungry.

 **harry:** well i’m taking all the shirts, i’ve just come to try them.

 **louis:** _(mouth agape)_ you’re taking all the shirts? do you know how much they cost?

 **harry:** _(unfazed by louis’ surprise)_ yeah _(takes off his shirt, louis gapes his eyes running down his body)_ give me the first one you picked.

 **louis:** _(blinks severally)_ uh, yeah _(hands him the shirt, watches him wear it in silence, harry looks up at him, buttoning it)_ it…looks hot. i mean, good. it’s great.

 **harry:** great? nah, i want exceptional, not great.

**_(louis spends 45 minutes giving harry different shirts, all which harry says no to. either they are not flowy, silky, or colorful enough. louis enjoys giving harry new shirts as he gets to check out his abs of steel on his inked chest. harry smirks, getting what louis is up to and says he has found the perfect shirt)_ **

**_ _ **

**louis:** that looks terrible.

 **harry:** no it doesn’t. it’s so colourful i’ve seen you about to puke your lunch.

 **louis:** not true _(harry eyes him)_ i haven’t eaten lunch.

 **harry:** why?

 **louis:** lottie stole my money for her movie date with her friends when i wasn’t looking.

 **harry:** _(beams)_ c’mon, let’s go for lunch because i haven’t eaten either.

##  scene 4

**_(louis and harry order frozen yoghurt and sit on one of the balcony tables overlooking the mall entrance)_ **

**louis:** _(eats sour gummy worms off his cup)_ i can’t believe you’ve never had frozen yoghurt before. who are you even?

 **harry:** says the one in a tank top. well i spend half of my time not touring restaurants.

 **louis:** why?

 **harry:** _(pops a cherry into his mouth)_ i prefer spending my time indoors. ironic because i throw parties every other night, spend nearly 5 nights out of 7 outside, always driving somewhere but not getting there. i don’t know, i just like…

 **louis:** being alone? _(harry nods, he takes a bite of his yoghurt)_ i get that. being around people can be draining and you need to get away, recover.

 **harry:** exactly but being alone and lonely are two different things.

 **louis:** well, rather be alone because your company sucks the life out of you.

 **harry:** i can’t. i _(quietly)_ i’m tired of feeling alone. i always want to be with someone. i know it’s pathetic and lame but it…

 **louis:** _(cuts him off)_ it’s not shameful to want someone. it’s perfectly normal, it’s human. and sometime in your life you’re going to wonder why you thought it was better to be alone.

 **harry:** _(quiet for a while, takes a scoop of his yoghurt)_ did… did you feel that way?

 **louis:** _(evasive)_ i guess. you?

 **harry:** _(chews on slices of apples)_ yeah.

 **louis:** taylor?

 **harry:** nope _(snorts)_ definitely not.

 **louis:** not? she seems nice.

 **harry:** _(snorts)_ nice? you can’t lie so save yourself.

 **louis:** i’m the worst that is true, but according to did you know facts, the worst liars often have the best personalities.

 **harry:** _(amused)_ really? can you prove it?

 **louis:** i did pick good shirts for you, you’ve had frozen yoghurt for the first time in your life…

 **harry:** _(interrupts)_ that’s just bogus.

 **louis:** bet you haven’t had a good burger and spicy fries before either.

 **harry:** _(stalling)_ well…

 **louis:** tonight?

 **harry:** _(sets cup down, smirking)_ mr tomlinson, are you asking me out on a date?

 **louis:** _(licks yoghurt off spoon)_ it’s just a meal between two grown high school lads.

 **harry:** _(leans back in chair)_ or a date is quicker to say _(speaks before louis says anything)_ but i have a dinner date with taylor and my mother that’s why i was buying shirts.

 **louis:** oh?

 **harry:** it’s going to be hell. so thank you for taking me for frozen yoghurt, this is going to get me through the night.

 **louis:** _(happy)_ anytime.

 **harry:** _(checks his clock)_ looks like we got several minutes before your sister is out.

 **louis:** _(sets cup down)_ i don’t want to keep you waiting.

 **harry:** you’re not. plus you have some yoghurt left.

 **louis:** thanks.

 **harry:** _(both fall silent eating their yoghurts in peace)_ what are you doing tonight?

 **louis:** playing footie with liam. then i work on my alien project for mrs maths class.

 **harry:** what are you doing for the project?

 **louis:** trisha’s coming over tonight so we can start. how far have you come along?

 **harry:** haven’t started _(interest perks up)_ so are you and trisha dating?

 **louis:** i’m gay.

 **harry:** _(doubtful)_ right but…

 **louis:** gay men generally don’t date straight women.

 **harry:** true but… some gay people turn straight.

 **louis:** you don’t turn straight. you just are.

 **harry:** _(quiet)_ when did you find out?

 **louis:** i was dating my ex, eleanor, when we were about to have sex and i didn’t get hard _(embarrassed)_ literally the only thing that came up that night was the sun _(laughs a little, harry smiles slightly)_ she said that we should keep trying and we did. time and time again and i told mama.

 **harry:** mama?

 **louis:** sorry, my mom. she said she knows the problem. i said yeah it’s her and she said no, it’s because i’m gay. of course i was in denial but it was true. i told liam and he said he knew for a long time.

 **harry:** how did he take it?

 **louis:** pretty good actually. he got disappointed he wasn’t the one i had a crush on. and then it got worse.

 **harry:** how?

 **louis:** i’d rather not talk about it over frozen yoghurt.

 **harry:** of course. we can talk about it over the meal between high school fellas.

 **louis:** if i recall you said date.

 **harry:** i don’t remember that. i remember burger and spicy fries.

 **louis:** date asshead, date.

 **harry:** shut up sandra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i overdid the images/gifs? *nervous laughter*


	18. 0.17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry learns how to text, thanks to uncle wikihow....

harry settles by the poolside and places his laptop onto his lap. it is time he got serious about louis, or rather start with louis. he did get louis’ number through snooping on one of liam’s phone.

see before louis came along, harry found it easy to talk to people, text them, call them, skype them, whatever, because really it was _others_ who did the initiating a conversation for him not him. girls at the country club, girls at tennis, girls and boys in school (and sometimes staff) everywhere people talked to him so it made it easier for him. until now.

now he had to _talk first_ and he did not know what to do. so of course he did not talk to mckenzie on texting louis (she would say no to helping him anyhow), liam would made sexual innuendos the whole time and that is where his list ends because really he cannot ask anyone else.

he types into the google search engine “texting” and different oxford definitions pop up. well, rather “text” not texting. the first reads:

_a piece of written or printed material regarded as conveying the authentic or primary form of a particular work._

not what he is looking for. the next oxford definition reads:

_a script or libretto._

what is a libretto anyway?

_a textbook._

is this even a definition? honestly oxford…

_a passage from the bible or other religious work, especially when used as the subject of a sermon_ _._

clearly oxford is high on drugs and this is getting out of hand.

“stupid oxford definitions,” he grumbles. he types again into the search engine “how to text” because yes, he is desperate and two, he _has_ to talk to louis without liam being in the middle. or rather, liam tells him what louis is doing, he asks what exactly louis is doing and liam does not reply. it had been an option to _ask_ for louis’ number but he just could not do it. nerves and all.

he reads the options that google bring and they are:

4 ways to text 

how to text message someone you like 

how to talk text (with pictures) 

sexting made easier

how to have a meaningful text message

waiting for the second link to load, he clicks his fingers and the bartender rushes to him . he orders for a drink and then turns his attention back to his macbook screen. finally his cold drink comes forth and he takes a sip reading through the wikihow link on how to text message someone you like.

honestly it is turning out great because he is learning a lot more about texting than he knew. who knew texting was so much work and truthfully he will need all these points when it comes to texting louis. he scrolls down to the _tips_ part and scans through them but the last one catches his eye. it reads:

_don’t wait for them to talk to you first because odds are they’re waiting for the same thing. say “hi” first._

“doubt it,” mumbles harry.

“talking to yourself baby?” ask taylor who is getting a tan on the seat near him.

“like always,” niall mumbles.

“turn around, you’re getting burnt.”

taylor scowls and turns around and niall chuckles a little. he sets aside his laptop and takes his phone off the table to his right and begins texting louis. according to the wikihow page it states the first step is: **greet the person respectfully.**

 

**HARRY:** Hi Louis. I got your number from Liam. Hope you don’t mind :)

 

he leans back on his seat and nervously presses send. the next ten minutes are the worst ten minutes of his life. he waits another few minutes and still nothing. wikihow step number two stated not to text again if the other person has not responded, you will look needy; play it cool. play it cool, he does. he orders the bartender for more cold drinks and before he knows it, he has drowned five espresso vodka shots.

he hears a ding from his phone and rushes to see it’s a message from mckenzie.

 

**K:** Adventure tonight at 8.

 

**HARRY:** Nope. Going for dinner with Taylor tonight.

 

**K:** Bore!

 

he keeps waiting and _it is constantly the wrong people texting him_ like emma, jenny, serene, floor, zara, and why is ashley still texting him? honestly girls do not get hints of ‘i’m not interested in you’! finally louis texts him and his heart jumps to his throat.

 

**LOUIS:** Hiyaaaaa Harry :} Liam told me you needed my number for Mrs Maths project so don’t worry.

 

harry owes liam a big one. now what is the next step according to wikihow?

 

**HARRY:** What are you doing?

 

harry counts the agonizing 15 minutes pass by before louis responds back.

 

**LOUIS:** I’m walking home. You? :}

 

he embarrassingly responds in seconds.

 

**HARRY:** How come? Don’t you have a car?

 

was that douche baggery of him? liam did say that he is not as rich as them, or rather he like every other average citizen in britain with normal pay checks. he does not spend more time in thinking because _louis has texted back._

 

**LOUIS:** I lost my coins in the Underground so now I have to walk home :{

 

**HARRY:** How did that happen?

 

harry congratulates himself because he is doing great! louis and his texting seems to be flowing.

 

**LOUIS:** Well when I was at the queue I dug my hand into the coat and there was a hole inside!! ]:< and I didn’t have any money on me so I had to walk. Plus my dad took the car for repairs.

 

**HARRY:** Haha

 

oh he is terrible! what is he to say to that? he has never found himself in such a situation because one, he has a chauffeur, two he would call his chauffeur to pick him up, three, if his phone died, he would use his spare phone and four… what the shit is he doing on a train in the first place?!

 

**HARRY:** Have you reached home?

 

**LOUIS:** Almost :}

 

great, he grumbles, another dead end in his texting. by now, with other people, the conversation would be halfway between flirty and sexting. he reads through wikihow once again and reads step number six. he literally copy pastes what he reads on the website and presses send.

 

**HARRY:** Let me know if I’m distracting you, I don’t want to bother you.

 

**LOUIS:** You never bother me :}

 

harry squeals in his seat. oh louis, louis, louis! now what to say? his texting guru wikihow says to: **acknowledge it’s always about them.** he scans through the tiny paragraph that essentially talks about letting them feel like you are interested in them. harry ponders what to text because he really has no idea. thankfully louis sends him another text six minutes later (looks like he took long deciding what to ask).

 

**LOUIS:** What are you doing?

 

**HARRY:** Chilling by the pool. You?

 

he does not add niall and taylor in case it dumps down the conversation.

 

**LOUIS:** You’ve asked me that already :P but I am making meself some cereal.

 

_meself?_ harry wonders.

 

**HARRY:** It’s 3 in the afternoon!

 

**LOUIS:** Cereal time is not just breakfast food Harry ;}

 

harry chokes on air, is that a winky face from louis? he takes a deep breath and moves past his excitement. what do you reply to this? he frantically searches up and down the wikihow page and sadly he is on his own now. once again, louis texts again saving him from despair.

 

**LOUIS:** What’s your favourite cereal?

 

**HARRY:** Lucky charms. You?

 

 

**LOUIS:** Coco pops :}

 

“baby, massage my back,” whines taylor.

“i’m busy,” mutters harry.

“please,” she begs. harry groans, setting his phone down. he walks to his girlfriend and massages her back using the oils that one of the housekeepers had brought. he is done, thankfully and goes back to texting louis and he finds one from him.

 

**LOUIS:** Since you’ve asked me twice, I’ll ask you too, what are you doing?

 

**HARRY:** Haha touché Louis :)

 

**LOUIS:** An emoji ? :0

 

**HARRY:** I don’t really use them.

 

**LOUIS:** Why?

 

**HARRY:** Emojis replace words and soon they are acceptable forms of communication which is a NO from me.

 

**LOUIS:** All I read is that you’re boring Styles ;}

 

_another_ winky face? harry grins down at his phone and immediately texts back.

 

**HARRY:** I’m not Tomlinson.

 

**LOUIS:** Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about the English project?

 

harry sighs, he did want to but not now!

 

**HARRY:** Yeah, when should we be meeting?

 

**LOUIS:** How is Thursdays? :}

 

**HARRY:** Perfect. Even though we are in the same group I know nothing about you…

 

**LOUIS:** What do you want to know :} I’m an open book.

 

**HARRY:** Well I know your name…

 

really harry, really? he cancels the message and types again.

 

**HARRY:** How many siblings do you have? I only know of Fizzy and the other one who had a crush on me :)

 

**LOUIS:** Lottie. She’s the second oldest, after me of course. Then Fizzy, Daisy and Phoebe are twins, then recently we have Ernie and Doris just last month.

 

**HARRY:** Wow! That’s a huge family.

 

**LOUIS:** The more the merrier Mama always says. Honestly I don’t think so because I never get any privacy in this damn house.

 

**LOUIS:** What about you?

 

**HARRY:** I have one sister. So thankfully I have a lot of privacy :P In case you need some, you can come over.

 

he high fives himself. this is going great, he believes.

 

**LOUIS:** Will take you up on that Styles :}

 

his high does not last long when he, once again, does not know what to say. he then starts from the beginning.

 

**HARRY:** What are you up to?

 

Not again, he groans.

 

**HARRY:** What’s the craziest thing that has happened to you recently?

 

he cannot ask him that, it is too risky plus he is not close enough to ask him so he types instead:

 

**HARRY:** Where do you plan on going after high school?

 

**LOUIS:** So many questions Styles :} Happy to talk to me?

 

“yes,” he groans. niall tells him to shut up disturbing his sleep.

 

**HARRY:** You wish Tomlinson.

 

**LOUIS:** Well I have to go through Senior Year without being egged, or dead, THEN hopefully get into Brunel or Cardiff

 

**HARRY:** Brunel is a great university, you’ll definitely get in.

 

**LOUIS:** What about you?

 

**HARRY:** Harvard or Yale. More of Harvard than Yale.

 

**LOUIS:** Nerd :P

 

**HARRY:** I’m not!

 

**LOUIS:** Do you want to go to Harvard or Yale?

 

**HARRY:** Yeah I do. It’s where my father went, and his father, and his father’s father, so it is sort of tradition for the Styles’ family to go. And my mother went to Yale.

 

**LOUIS:** That’s amazing!

 

**HARRY:** Plus I’m trying to be better than my parents are. They went into Ivy schools, my sister did, and so I have to too. It’s the only way.

 

**LOUIS:** There’s always “less-than-Harvard” universities like Brunel ;}

 

**HARRY:** I can’t. No matter how much I do want to go to Brunel or any other Universities.

 

**LOUIS:** I also want to go to Oxford :}

 

**HARRY:** Me too! What do you want to do there?

 

**LOUIS:** Architecture because apparently “football” is not a course offered in any uni

 

**HARRY:** AHAAHAHA really?

 

**LOUIS:** I’m serious :P

 

**HARRY:** You’re unbelievable.

 

**LOUIS:** What about you?

 

what about him? to be honest, he does not know. his parents want him to take over the company, his teachers all recommend he becomes a lawyer because of the passion they see in him, his girlfriend thinks he should be a businessman for p&g, and him? he wants to own a small-scale bakery but he has never found the courage to tell anyone for fear people would mock him or tell him, “be realistic.”

**HARRY:** A baker.

 

He takes the risk.

 

**LOUIS:** :D I LOVE PASTRIES!!! Especially croissants. Or cinnamon rolls.

 

**HARRY:** Haha I can but I stopped baking a long time ago. But for me to be one I need to do Business Management, or whatever. It’ll be easier to do Business in Oxford than in Yale/Harvard.

 

**LOUIS:** Or those glossy donuts.

 

**HARRY:** Really? I’m not studying to be a baker. That’s Hotelier…or something.

 

**LOUIS:** Hotel Management?

 

**HARRY:** Cuisinery?

 

**LOUIS:** Foodery?

 

**HARRY:** Now you’re making stuff up :D

 

**LOUIS:** EMOJIS!! :}:}:}:}:}:}}:}:}:}:}:}:}

 

**HARRY:** When I said I don’t use them, I meant “not often.”

 

**LOUIS:** But it’s better when you use emojis, it makes texts less serious

 

**HARRY:** Emojis are too much work.

 

No reply after this. So Harry takes it as a cue to stop texting him, scan through his dozens of unread texts and does not reply to a single one.

finally, niall and taylor leave his mansion and he goes upstairs to take a shower. a rather long one what with images of louis filled in his head. settling into bed, eating close to nothing for dinner, he grabs his phone to check for any new messages from louis. none. he decides to text liam.

 

**HARRY:** Hey!

 

**LIAM:** Finally stopped texting your BOYFRIEND ?

 

**HARRY:** He’s not my boyfriend. And how do you know?

 

**LIAM:** He’s at my place.

 

**HARRY:** Why?

 

**LIAM:** Curious George aren’t you? Anyway, we were playing football and now I’m driving him home. “Safely”

 

**HARRY:** Go away Lima Bean!

 

**LOUIS:** Did you want me to say something?

 

**HARRY:** No. Why?

 

**LIAM:** You’re stalling H. Tell me what you want me to do.

 

**HARRY:** It’s childish.

 

**LIAM:** Not to me it never is H. Tell me.

 

**HARRY:** I want him to text me back.

 

**LIAM:** Okay.

 

**HARRY:** Okay? What does that mean?

 

**LIAM:** You’re welcome.

 

he wonders what he means by that when his phone dings and it is an incoming text from louis.

 

**LOUIS:** Sorry I didn’t reply. I went over to play footie at Liam’s place and then my phone died. Missed me? :}

he smiles so hard he thinks his jaw will break. he hastily texts liam back.

 

**HARRY:** THANK YOU =] I OWE YOU

 

**LIAM:** You owe me noting. Enjoy ;)

 

he then replies to louis.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> swimming pool photos of harry just make me smile....and giggle too because he looks kinda silly in some [:


	19. 0.18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis asks liam for a favor....

“he hasn’t replied,” whines louis. he flips through his old texts with harry, reading and re-reading wondering where he went wrong. “it’s been three days.”

shouting from the bathroom, he shouts “i’m showering louis!” louis hears him turning the shower off a little shuffling and the bathroom door opens. “get off my bed! you’re reeking with sweat from earlier.”

ignoring him he asks, “does he know?”

“know what?” he asks him. louis sits up on his bed and his eyes land on his hard arbs glistening with water and a faint smell of oranges. “and get off my bed.”

“about what we did three days ago?”

“when you sucked me off?” he grins and louis rolls his eyes before landing them back on liam’s hot bod. “nope.”

“did you tell him?”

“nope because then he’ll ask unnecessary questions.” he adds, “my eyes are up here.”

louis’ face colors in embarrassment but really how could you not _love liam’s body?_ he was a fitty. “i am looking at your eyes.” he gets of the bed, much to liam’s satisfaction, and walks to him. he looks straight into his eyes and huskily says, “y’know i think it’s time we did that thing you’ve been asking for.”

liam gulps. “wh-what?” louis smirks not leaving his gaze off liam. “but you always say no. i have to beg you for a blowjob.” louis hands trail down to his towel and he tugs down on it. “bu-but if yo-you want i’ll agree. let’s get to it.”

“not a blowjob,” winks louis. he swiftly unties his towel, letting it fall to the ground. “bed.” liam literally sprints to the bed, bouncing off it. he opens a drawer by the bedside table and takes off one tie. “it’s creepy that you have ties around.”

“the ladies like it rough so i have to keep one close,” he winks. louis shakes his head. he goes onto tie his arms together with the tie and then proceeds to tie his tied arms to the bed pole. “what am i doing today?”

louis and liam, since the elounor break up, occasionally hooked up. no liam is not gay but has _a thing_ for gay sex. once in a while, louis would ask for a favor and liam only speaks in terms of sex – one favor in exchange for one sexual pleasure. it is hard to impress liam sexually, many have tried, but louis somehow managed to the first time, and it was the best sex he had had in _years_. so he begged for more, and more, and each time louis would tell him with a firm no. liam would buy gifts, louis would politely refuse, liam would be nice, take him on dates, still louis would not budge. his last option was to be louis’ friend and after asking louis finally agreed to be liam’s friends, who occasionally have sex but nothing more.

how do you think the rich snobs stopped bugging louis so much? it is because of liam.

“get harry to text me.”

“that’s it?” he asks him. he pulls down on the tie, testing how tight it is. louis nods. “and say something, i’m anxious.”

“you’re already hard, this is going to end fast,” smiles louis. liam shakes his head. “no, i promise i won’t cum.”

“in under 5 minutes you always do. it makes me wonder how you’re the best in bed.”

“nobody’s met you,” grunts liam. and he is right. though he _is_ the best in bed, ask anyone, when it comes to louis he suddenly cannot control himself anymore. his dominant power fails him and he is left at louis’ mercy. “can we stop talking and start? no hickeys this time.”

louis spreads liam’s legs and bends down. he runs his tongue from the bottom of his co.ck with the back of his tongue all the way to his tip and licks off the pre-cum.

“finally a blowjob,” cheers liam. “it’s been too long louis. it’s been what, six months?”

“you wish.”

“wh-what do you mean?”

louis pushes liam’s legs up, leaving small, soft bites the bottom of his thigh. by now liam is slightly pulling down on the tie around his hands, moving sideways on the bed. he wastes no time in running his tongue over liam’s pretty pink hole as the tangled lets out a squeal.

he licks over it again, and once more. liam’s legs fall over to his back, slightly pushing him down. he does not mind because he enjoys this, enjoying taking power over liam – enjoys him whispering curse words, throwing his name in there a few times.

“feels like heaven,” breathes liam. confident with himself, he pushes his tongue _in_. almost immediately, liam violent jerks his hands down, grunting loudly. “again.”

he pushes his tongue in, deeper than before. he flicks the end of his tongue roughly inside of him and liam swears he is going to cum _untouched._ he mutters to himself to _not cum_ not now, because he is waiting for what louis has for him next. he controls his rugged breathing but that proves to be difficult when louis once again twirls his tongue.

“stroke me lou,” begs liam.

“that’s what the tie is for,” smirks louis. “you’ll cum for me untouched. should i stop?”

liam violently shakes his head. “no. pleas-please continue,” he breathes. louis hovers above his creaming cock and swallows it clean. “agai-again.”

louis spits on his finger, inserts his finger where his tongue previously was, all the way in. he twists around _inside of him_ , liam’s cock already growing wide. liam pulls down on his tied hands, growling at louis when he slips in two fingers. a small crack is heard from the bed frame but that does not stop louis from curving his finger inside of him.

“yes, lou, there! there!”

louis grins and lowers his head. he blows inside his pink, burning hole and sucks on it. liam takes a sharp breath, and stays like this for seconds, _feeling louis tongue circling him_ , and lets it out as louis comes out of him.

“i’ll do anything for you.”

“i bet it feel good, don’t it?”

“yes papi. no one does it like you.”

papi is new, he has never heard liam say that to him. louis continues rimming him, and fingering, faster this time. he does not lick off liam’s pre-cum, letting it drop to liam’s stomach. scissoring him, he hits liam’s prostrate and he violently pulls down on his tie several times, asking to be freed.

“do not cum,” orders louis. liam whines. his moans are loud, louis’ fingers sliding in and out, bucking up at his prostrate, again and again, hammering his fingers till he is bleeding pink.

“papi please,” begs liam loudly. he is shifty on the bed, swinging his arms to free himself from the tie but _damn papi for tying it too tight_.

music to his ears, louis allows him “cum.” his back thrusts up from the bed, his wrists, now red from pulling down at the tie continuously, his fingers digging onto his palm, spurts all over himself, face and onto the floor.

louis removes his two fingers and licks them slowly, liam gaping at him. “papi?” he questions.

“shut up,” chuckles liam, his cheeks red. “now untie me.” he does, and then proceeds to pick the forgotten towel off the floor, using it to wipe off liam’s cum off his body. liam runs his hands up the back of louis’ thighs as he is wiping the cum off his chest and stops on his big ass. “i meant it when i said i’d do anything for you.”

“get harry to text me.”

“even without the sex part, i’d still have done it.”

“i know,” he whispers, kissing the top of his head. “bro.”

“bro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh


	20. 0.19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the best friends text as liam chaperone's lottie's date....

**LIAM:** I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday what with the whole T and N ambush

 **LOUIS:** It’s fine.

 **LOUIS:** Didn’t hurt. Just talked about me house, me life, me bank accounts and everything sucks in me life.

 **LOUIS:** No biggie :}

 **LIAM:** LOUIS!

 **LOUIS:** Liam don’t make a big deal out of this. It’s best for everyone if it’s not a big deal.

 **LIAM:** They shouldn’t pick on you just because you’re poor

 **LOUIS:** I’m not poor. Every1 is just ridiculously richer than me, that is all.  & spoilt. & snobby

 **LIAM:** Trisha isn’t any more now that she and N are hooking up.

 **LOUIS:** “I fucked my up way to the top.”

 **LIAM:** “Go, baby, go”

 **LOUIS:** “This is my show.”

 **LIAM:** You could too.

 **LOUIS:** It’s sad how one has to have sex with ‘the boys’ and become instantly famous in school. Fook that shit! You aren’t going to be fooking around your whole life? What about in your workplace? You don’t fook around in real life.

 **LIAM:** As they say, sex is about everything other than sex.

 **LIAM:** *attached image 160KB*

 **LOUIS:** What? =O Is that Lottie with who is that guy?!?!?!

 **LOUIS:** LIAM PAYNE JAMES

 **LIAM:** LIAM JAMES PAYNE*

 **LOUIS:** WHO IS THAT LITTLE FUCKTARD ?!

 **LIAM:** Calm down. It’s some guy called Conchorbar.

 **LOUIS:** Conchobar?

 **LIAM:** That’s what he said

 **LOUIS:** Fizzy is also dating some guy called Conchobar.

 **LIAM:** Obviously it’s not the same guy. Maybe they’re brothers.

 **LOUIS:** What twats name their children Conchobar?

 **LIAM:** The Conchos. Or Grents

 **LOUIS:** What the fook is grents?

 **LIAM:** Greg + Parents = Grents

 **LOUIS:** Where did Greg come from?!

 **LIAM:** His surname is Greg and he prefers to be called Greg because he hates his first name

 **LOUIS:** Who the shit loves Conchobar?

 **LIAM:** Lottie does!

 **LOUIS:** Obviously because she is in love!!!

 **LIAM:** Instead of MTV Cribs, it is MTV Kids: Greg1, Greg33, Greg5, Greg77

 **LOUIS:** GregGETANOTHERNAMESHITS

 **LIAM:** He’s nice, leave him alone

 **LIAM:** Send me that song!!!!

 **LOUIS:** Make sure they don’t have sex.

 **LIAM:** Yes, because Lottie and Greg will have sex right here in front of everyone in Forever 21

 **LOUIS:** LIAM!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!

 **LIAM:** I promise. Jeez, trust me a little with your sister !!!!

 **LOUIS:** I do, I don’t trust Conchobar.

 **LOUIS:** What song?!?

 **LIAM:** He prefers Greg.

 **LOUIS:** So what, now you’re besties?

 **LIAM:** THE LANA SONG OBVS -____-

 **LOUIS:** *attached music file 8.2MB*

 **LIAM:** I talked to H and he went to Japan with his father

 **LOUIS:** Oh

 **LOUIS:** Why?

 **LIAM:** Whenever Doctor Styles pops out of the blue to take H somewhere, it never ends well. Well, not for the Doctor but for H. He’s usually sulky, grump for days, arguing with us over little things like smoking in his car or some shit, and eventually we all learnt to keep away from him for some days till he cools off

 **LOUIS:** Dr?

 **LIAM:** Yeah, he’s got a PhD from Harvard.

 **LOUIS:** Why does go on these trips?

 **LIAM:** Well H is meant to take over the family business so he has to learn the ropes step by step.

 **LOUIS:** Thanks for finding out. It’s still no reason for him not to text back >=[

 **LIAM:** You need to chill!! You’ve known each other for what, 2 terms now? And didn’t talk for one whole term?

 **LOUIS:** We worked on a gazette together last term, and now we’re still in the same English class where we occasionally sit together. & talk. & laugh about Hotel Transylvania 2.

 **LIAM:** And don’t have each other’s numbers until like a week ago :\

 **LOUIS:** *raps* Bout a week ago, week ago

 **LIAM:**???????????

 **LOUIS:** NVM. When is he coming back?

 **LIAM:** Idk but soon hopefully because I miss playing tennis with him =[

 **LOUIS:** He plays tennis?

 **LIAM:** Why is that a surprise?!

 **LOUIS:** It just is. He doesn’t look like a fooking tennis player. More of golf than tennis.

 **LIAM:** And me?

 **LOUIS:** Ballet

 **LIAM:** *attached image 160KB*

 **LOUIS:** DID YOU GET THE WHOLE FOOKING STORE TO FLIP ME OFF?

 **LIAM:** #POWEROFPAYNE

 **LOUIS:** Speaking of, your dick is apparently going round now.

 **LIAM:** #POWEROFPAYNE

 **LOUIS:** Trisha slept with you. That lunatic literally sleeps with anyone who has money

 **LIAM:** #POWEROFPAYNEMONEY

 **LOUIS:** Payne money????

 **LIAM:** She’s nice

 **LOUIS:** Is everyone nice to you?

 **LIAM:** And talkative. How the hell are you two friends?

 **LOUIS:** She said that? Wait, how did I COME UP in the conversation?

 **LIAM:** She came to N’s party yesterday, I recognized her as Trisha because you told me how she doesn’t stop talking…

 **LOUIS:** Plus she has red hair.

 **LIAM:** So I introduced myself, she freaked out cause it was me ;]

 **LOUIS:** “the legendary L J PAYNE”

 **LIAM:** So we got to talking, she said she was here with N therefore spoken for, I told her nobody had to know and we got to the banging, and the swearing, and the tongues..

 **LOUIS:** nobody has to know?! NOBODY HAS TO KNOW?!

 **LIAM** : I don’t want her around me. Bitch talks too much so I told we need to keep whatever we did a secret lest N finds out.

 **LOUIS:** And telling everyone how you’re better in bed than Niall.

 **LIAM:** Really? :D

 **LOUIS:** Rumor has it

 **LIAM:** You know it’s more than rumors. I’m better than N!

 **LOUIS:** I would’ve have to try N ;} I hear he fucks with guys too

 **LIAM:** I’M BETTER THAN NIALL IN BED. I CAN FUCK YOU HARDER THAN HE EVER WILL

 **LOUIS:** I need just one night to measure you both =}

 **LIAM:** DON’T YOU DARE ! ONCE YOU GO PAYNE, YOU NEVER GO BACK

 **LOUIS:                               -** _____-

 **LIAM:** You always come back to me ;]

 **LOUIS:** Because I’m into guys, not ladies.

 **LIAM:** ………………………………

 **LIAM:** So why was she telling me how you kissed her before Harry’s party and it’s the best kiss she ever had ?!

 **LOUIS:** Like you said, she talks too much.

 **LIAM:** Stop avoiding the topic! WHY WERE YOU MAKING OUT WITH HER?!

 **LOUIS:** She’s never kissed anyone before until me :}

 **LIAM:**?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **LOUIS:** That’s all.

 **LIAM:** The you ruined it for me because apparently I kiss like a snail :/

 **LOUIS:** HAHAHAHHA YOU DO RETARD

 **LIAM:** I DO NOT. I kiss & you get explosions and fireworks in your stomach.

 **LIAM:** Plus the ladies love a sensual, meaningful kiss

 **LOUIS:** Nobody kisses like the Tommo ;]

 **LIAM:** Or fucks :*

 **LOUIS:** UPDATE!

 **LIAM:** *attached image 200KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 168KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 132KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 147KB*

 **LIAM:** FYI watermelon frozen yoghurt is disgusting D:

 **LIAM:** *attached image 182KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 203KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 306KB*

 **LIAM:** *attached image 111KB*

 **LOUIS:** WHY IS THAT FOOKING CONCHOBAR’S ARM ON MY SISTER’S BOOBS?!

 **LOUIS:** FUCK THIS LIAM!

 **LOUIS:** IM COMING TO GET HER!

 **LIAM:** His hand is hanging from her shoulder, NOT ON HER BREAST!

 **LOUIS:** breast? I just shuddered and my gay just increased immediately.

 **LIAM:** THEM BREASTS

 **LIAM:** But seriously no sex? You didn’t fuck her?!

 **LOUIS:** Unlike you I can keep me dirty dick in me pants.

 **LIAM:** Not true because I can go for weeks without sex.

 **LOUIS:** That was once. And you only abstained because WHATSHERFACE told you she doesn’t fook on the fourth date.

 **LIAM:** FOURTH?! CAN YOU IMAGINE. And then the bitch says she goes on two dates per month :/

 **LIAM:** WHAT THE ACTUAL FOOK?

 **LOUIS:** You’ve should left her. There were literally 29389 girls lining up just to fook you.

 **LIAM:** She was hot Louis! Plus I made a bet with Zayn that I would fuck her before Niall does.

 **LIAM:** AND GUESS WHO WON THAT BET ?!

 **LIAM:** THAT’S RIGHT, THE BIG PAYNO!!!!

 **LIAM:** #POWEROFPAYNESTRIKESAGAIN

 **LOUIS:** -________-

 **LIAM:** Turns out she was a virgin too.

 **LOUIS:** -____- LIAM!

 **LIAM:** WHAT ?

 **LOUIS:** WAS IT WORTH IT? Didn’t you feel bad that you’re just using her for a bet? And then take advatange of her?

 **LIAM:** Well, Mr “holier-than-thou” she came onto ME and who am I to deny her a chance of the BIG PAYNO? THE ALMIGHTY PAYNO?! Not me.

 **LOUIS:** “this sex is on fire”

 **LOUIS:** why do we always talk about sex?!

 **LIAM:** this DICK* is on fire

 **LIAM:** You bring it up. And sex is always on my mind. Like I always say sex is about everything but sex.

 **LOUIS:** What does that mean?

 **LIAM:** I thought we aren’t talking about sex, so IN THIS CASE your earlier statement does count and I should respect your wishes on NOT talking about sex.

 **LIAM:** Update: Lottie and Greg are sharing a cotton candy

 **LOUIS:** If we are talking about sex not begin about sex then we aren’t talking about sex

 **LIAM:** ALL I SEE IS SEX, SEX, SEX

 **LOUIS:** ALMIGHTY PAYNO

 **LIAM:** :D #imsleepingwithasmileonmyfacetonight

 **LOUIS:** #fookyou

 **LIAM:** Oh baby if it’s you, I’m already coming

 **LOUIS:** Papi*

 **LIAM:** anything said during sex shall not be used in real life

 **LOUIS:** i know of no such thing, Papi

 **LIAM:** IT’S IN THE BRO CODE

 **LOUIS:** NO IT’S NOT

 **LIAM:** YES IT IS

 **LOUIS:** NOT IT’S NOT

 **LOUIS :** BECAUSE BROS DON’T FOOK OCCASIONALLY

 **LIAM:** WE’RE DIFFERENT BROS ;P

 **LOUIS:** And aren’t you dating someone ? So I shouldn’t even have sucked you off.

 **LIAM:** Ella? I ain’t dating her anymore. I’m onto the next one.

 **LOUIS:** Tbh I can never keep up with you anymore, always fooking someone new every other night.

 **LIAM:** That’s Niall. I date people.

 **LOUIS:** To you guys, dating and fooking are one and the same thing

 **LIAM:** No, I try to keep a girl for at least a month before thinking if I should leave her

 **LOUIS:** That was only once with that virgin girl. The longest you’ve ever dated was 65 days.

 **LIAM:** You counted?

 **LOUIS:** I’m a concerned bro.

 **LIAM:** *smirks* Tommo are you worried about me when dating?

 **LOUIS:** Yes, yes I am.

 **LIAM:** AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

 **LOUIS:** FOOK YOU PAYNO.

 **LIAM:** But that clique is weird.

 **LOUIS:** What clique ?

 **LIAM:** The Taylor, Harry, Niall, Kendall, Brittanny, Zayn, Gigi, and McKenzie clique. They date each other and share each other round like blunts.

 **LOUIS:** AHAHAHAAAHAHAHA you should join

 **LIAM:** I did once. Dated K but I stopped after she said we should switch: I date T and she dates N.

 **LOUIS:** EURGH TAYLOR?!

 **LIAM:** Exactly. So I distanced myself from them and so did M

 **LOUIS:** M?

 **LIAM:** McKenzie

 **LOUIS:** “I do not fuck with your shit don’t ask for my take on it”

 **LIAM:** VERSACE!!

 **LIAM:** Send me the song.

 **LOUIS:** What about Harry?

 **LIAM:** H remained and ever since has been dating T, on and off, it makes me dizzy sometimes. One day, they’re not together, two days later they’re back together, BETTER THAN EVER!

 **LOUIS:** Odd. Why didn’t he leave like you?

 **LOUIS:** *attached music file 5.4MB*

 **LIAM:** It’s not as easy as it seems. Daddy T is a really powerful man. Him and Harry’s mother are really good friends and he occasionally does favors for Dr Styles and T sort of blackmails him into it.

 **LOUIS:** Blackmail how?

 **LIAM:** Well, currently H’s dad is facing fraud and corruption accusations and that’s part of why H went to Japan with his dad. T somehow found out about it BEFORE even H knew about the accusations. So next thing you know, Haylor is back together and suddenly the accusations stop.

 **LOUIS:** Stop how?

 **LIAM:** All fixed by Daddy Taylor.

 **LOUIS:** Why do you keep saying Daddy Taylor? It’s freaking me out.

 **LIAM:** Because that’s what we all call him.

 **LOUIS:** As long as Harry is dating Taylor, he is saving his dad’s company ?

 **LIAM:** That’s what it looks like yeah.

 **LOUIS:** But Harry’s dad doesn’t work for Taylor’s dad?! DOES HE?!

 **LIAM:** He fixes things. You have a problem with money or whatever, he fixes whatever. Like court cases that have been going on like in G’s family are suddenly gone, N can’t get into Ivy League schools because of that thing with Harvard? POOF! He’s suddenly accepted into Harvard after he finishes high school. The Kendall family have something that is bothering them, Daddy Taylor swoops in. He’s sort of like a superhero in the clique.

 **LOUIS:** What about you?

 **LIAM:** The Payno family can handle themselves.

 **LIAM:** But it’s all T really. She helps people so that you owe them. It’s genius really, cause one day some time you’ll need a favor and suddenly you’ll have so many people who owe you favors

 **LOUIS:** Like when?

 **LIAM:** Need to bury a body ? DONE. Need to hide all this money I’ve been stealing? Done. Get the police off your back? Done!

 **LOUIS:** How come Taylor has never helped your family?

 **LIAM:** I’m the one person T can’t blackmail me with anything.

 **LOUIS:** How come?

 **LIAM:** It’s in our blood.

 **LOUIS:** What does that mean?

 **LIAM:** You’ll find out soon.

 **LOUIS:** Explains why she doesn’t you wrapped around her little finger like the rest of us in school.

 **LIAM:** Or if she doesn’t like you, she won’t help you.

 **LOUIS:** LIKE WHO? It sounds like she’s “helping” everyone.

 **LIAM:** Zayn.

 **LOUIS:** What’s happening to Zayn?

 **LIAM:** The London stock market isn’t doing so well and Mr Malik made bad investments which are all going south.

 **LOUIS:** How bad?

 **LIAM:** Chelsea in the premier league table bad

 **LOUIS:** SHIT! Why can’t you help him?

 **LIAM:** He’s an ass

 **LOUIS:** LIAM!

 **LIAM:** LOUIS!

 **LOUIS:** Stop LOUIS-ing me. Help Zayn!!

 **LIAM:** Our family can’t help Mr Malik’s problem. Only Daddy Taylor can.

 **LOUIS:** Bullshit.

 **LIAM:** Zayn’s an ass and that’s my answer. Don’t ask me again.

 **LOUIS:** Okay okay. How’s Lottie? Shouldn’t you two be done?

 **LIAM:** Three*

 **LIAM:** Why do you hate Gregory ?

 **LOUIS:** I don’t like him, hanging his hands on my poor sister’s boobs.

 **LIAM:** He bought us all lunch, I like him. I approve of Lottie + Gregory.

 **LOUIS:** I DO NOT. HIS NAME IS CONCHOBAR

 **LIAM:** YOU’RE OUT NUMBERED. Even Papa Daniel agrees.

 **LOUIS:** When did you talk to me dad about Lottie’s dating life?

 **LIAM:** I texted him.

 **LOUIS:** -______-

 **LIAM:** Anyway, I’m coming to drop off Lottie and Gregory so see you in a few.

 **LOUIS:** THE DATE IS OVER ?!

 **LOUIS:** HALLELUJAH! JESUS IS ALIVE!

 **LIAM:** You’re an ass sometimes.

 **LOUIS:** Fyck you.

 **LIAM:** Fyck me?

 **LIAM:** Okie! Now Greg thinks you’re high on drugs.

 **LOUIS:** You’re showing him me texts??/?

 **LIAM:** He wanted to know if The Tommo approves of him, clearly not.

 **LOUIS:** He better be afraid of the Tommo because I’ll beat his ass if he dares hurt Lottie!!

 **LIAM:** What will you do ? Fyck him?

 **LOUIS:** FYCK YOU LIAM

 **LIAM:** AHAHAHHAHHAHA


	21. 0.20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and harry talk about the concept of love....

louis lives by his mantra which is “live in the moment.” how he came to this mantra? he does not remember but it has helped him live life to the fullest. it comes in handy whenever he needs a burst of confidence, nothing but that.

sometimes all you need is 20 seconds of insane courage – literally 20 seconds of embarrassing bravery; something great will come out of it. this is why he is ringing harry’s doorbell on a thursday after school after borrowing a lift from trisha’s car. it is niall’s but he let her borrow it.

the door opens and it’s a man donned in a navy suit and louis assumes it is the butler. he asks for harry and the butler nods his head slightly and silently directs louis to harry’s bedroom. with his palm, he shows him the door and then leaves him alone in the white corridor. he takes a deep breath and opens it.

immediately a groan emerges from beneath the white sheets, “go away! i didn’t call for you.”

he clears his throat, “it’s me. louis.” harry flips his bed sheets and stares at the boy dressed in adidas (what a surprise), tank top, and vans on his feet. louis loves the sleepy face harry has on, and not to mention a toned chest. “your butler let me in.”

“he shouldn’t have,” harry groans. he falls back onto the bed. louis, still in his bubble of “live in the moment” walks on the other side of harry’s bed and hops on it, leaning against the bed frame.

“you didn’t come to school today,” says louis, after moments of silence. “or the day before.”

“i was busy.”

“i called, texted and still no reply. i had to ask liam where you were,” explains louis. harry turns his head and gazes up at him. “i was worried about you harry.” harry goes back to staring up at the ceiling. “i’m serious, i really was.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“so worried i even asked taylor. and i didn’t get much from them. they soaked my shoes in the pool so had to go home with wet footsteps and curious onlookers but what can you do?” louis lets out a forced chuckle and he swears he sees harry’s lip tug upward. “i asked liam and he finally told me.”

harry remains quiet.

“you told everyone where you were going but not me?” he questions him. “i honestly thought we were friends and friends tell each other everything. it’s not fair to me if you leave anytime you feel like without a heads up, or pack your bags and drive in your bentley or range because life is shitty.”

“everybody leaves eventually,” harry points out disinterestedly. “and why does it matter to you? we just started knowing each other.”

“that’s true but i’m not your girlfriend, or niall, or zayn, liam heck even mckenzie,” says louis. his eyes are fixated on harry’s face, staring at the hairs on his brows. “you think no one cares mainly because nobody ever has but you’re wrong. all i ask is if we are to stay friends that you tell me when you’re leaving…if you want to…be friends i mean…if not then it’s cool too…i hope not becau—”

“i do,” harry tells him quietly. “and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you it’s just that i get really frustrated when i’m around my father.” his breath hitches. “he thinks i’m not worthy of his love, admiration and company.”

“why not? you’re a whole lot better than all your friends.”

“but they’ve gotten accepted into ivy leagues.”

“so have you,” says louis, “oxford. then was it princeton?”

“it’s harvard or yale, nothing else.” harry sits up on his bed and tells louis he does not wish to talk about _this_ anymore. he would rather go to bed.

“you’ve been in bed for days, it’s time to get out,” louis informs him. harry turns to him and smirks, asking what he has in mind. “first, shower then i’ll tell you.” truthfully, louis does not know, he is making stuff up as he goes.

after his shower, all dressed in new clothes and a faint scent of apples, harry heads downstairs for a late lunch which is, surprise surprise, made by louis. sitting on the kitchen counter, he watches louis making _whatever it is_ with zeal, mixing spices, herbs, meat, water, more water, everything. his eyes glaze down his back and he stops at his ass, his great ass, shaking about as louis moves, and harry is too fixated to notice he has said something.

“what?”

“your plates, where are they?” louis asks. harry’s eyes dart to a housekeeper standing by the wall and she moves to get two plates from the long cabinet. louis politely smiles at her, thanking her for the plates. he scoops out cheesy, meat pasta from the pot and spills it all over the plate and the housekeeper hands it to harry.

“mhhmm,” moans harry, “what is this? it’s so good!”

“one of mama’s many secret pasta ingredients,” smirks louis. they eat, mostly in silence, louis uncomfortable by the many housekeepers in the kitchen. for the rest of their time, they go swimming, louis borrowing one of harry’s thousands of trunks out of the many drawers it made his head spin. it got too cold outside for louis, harry suggesting they heat the pool, but louis shook his head, his body out of the pool too.

“by the way,” harry tells him out of the blue, “i took your challenge.”

“what challenge?”

“you said i hadn’t watched classic romantic films so i took it upon myself to watch them while i was in tokyo with my father,” he tells him. louis’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “and now i have one,” he tells him, hesitantly, “if you want to stay and watch it with me, but i understand if you want to go home because it is qui—”

“shut up,” louis stops him. “i want to. plus i wanna see if you have better taste in romantic movies than me.”

“of course i do,” he says, his breath close to louis’ ear. thankfully harry does not notice the shudder louis feels rippling down his body as he is already walking down the corridor. he follows him and stops in front of a white door (no surprise). harry opens it – sliding the door upwards – and the first thing louis sees is no floor. there is no floor in the room as the whole room is one large couch from the door until the wall. he turns his head to the left and there is a large tv screen that is attached to the wall from ceiling until it touches where the couch is.

“wow!”

“c’mon, get in,” encourages harry. he is about to ask _how_ when harry gets on his knees and crawls to the middle. louis follows, before removing his shoes, and the door automatically shuts after him. he sits pretty close to harry, still in awe of the room. “i’ve already put the film, i just need to find the remote.”

“what is this place?” he asks him.

“it’s like home cinema for me,” he tells him, searching for the remote. “honestly, niall once saw a photo of a room where it was one large couch in front of a projected screen that was showing a film. so i said, we can have one like this except we don’t have a floor and no projector. and voila!”

“it’s insane,” mesmerized louis says. the tv screen turns on, the resolution too crazy and bright that louis is thinking he is not as tech-savvy as he thought. suddenly, there is a hole in the wall near him and out emerges a humongous bowl of caramel popcorn. he screams and leans into harry’s body, the younger one laughing.

“what’s that?” he asks harry. harry stretches his large hands and takes the bowl, the hole in the whole immediately closing up with a white wall. “it’s like a hole that brings out candies!”

“well think about carrying food into this room? impossible right? so i had my mother in-build a sort of tunnel from the kitchen to this room that brings food.”

“you’re insane,” louis tells him, still shaking his head. harry simply shrugs. he places the bowl of popcorn in front of them seeing as they both sit like pretzels on the couch-floor, their knees bumping. “what are we watching?”

“the cinderella movie,” he tells him and he grins. he grins so much that louis fights the urge to poke the dimple on his face. instead he reaches into the bowl popping the caramel popcorns into his mouth. harry occasionally snorts at the cliché moments, louis elbowing him because _they’re beautiful moments_ and it would happen again, and again until harry dozes off three-quarters into the movie.

he wakes up just as the credits begin rolling. he turns to louis and profusely apologizing, “i’m so sorry i fell asleep. i should not have done that. i promise i’ll make it up to you, new car, holiday in the bahamas…”

“what are you on about?”

“i shouldn’t have fallen asleep when a guest is over,” he tells him forcefully. he gaze falls to his thighs adding, “it’s wrong.”

“listen love.” harry’s heart leaps to his mouth at the nickname. “don’t do this to yourself. you’ve under a lot of stress and it’s perfectly fine that you fell asleep during the movie. in fact i shouldn’t have made you go to the pool, or watch this film…” harry stops him.

“no! you got me out of bed which is saying a lot because my friends all try but they stopped after a while and eventually they stopped visiting me all together. liam does occasionally but it’s not the same anymore. “

a wave of letdown flows through louis for this boy, wondering what he ever did wrong to deserve such cold showers from the people he loves. “fook them,” he tells him. harry raises his gaze to him. “fook them all! i’ll be visiting you, whether you’re sleeping or not, i’ll be coming.”

“you know what i’ve just remembered?”

“what?”

“i don’t think i’ve told enough people to fook off,” he tells him. “i bet it feels good?” he asks turning to face louis. the older boy nods with a cheeky smile.

“it really does. so liberating.”

“what happened at the end of the movie?”

“cinderella married prince charming,” says louis smiling. “it was beautiful. the way she stood up to her stepmother, and stepsisters, and somehow forgave them for all they did.”

remembering a scene from the movie, harry says quoting, “have courage. and be kind.”

“her mantra sounds better than mine which is ‘live in the moment’. i think i’m going to change my motto to hers; it’s catchy, awesome and cool. not mundane.”

harry shakes his head. “i like ‘live in the moment’. besides, she was full of shit.” louis slightly gasps, his head abruptly turning to him. “here me out, she continued living with her evil stepfamily when she could’ve left but she endured everything for years and for what?”

“to keep the memory of her dad alive,” louis points out. “that takes courage and kindness.”

“so i’m guessing you believe in all that ‘love is nothing but a bed of roses’ bullshit? and that it just happens?” he questions. louis can sense that harry is not just mocking him for his love of fluffy romantic movies, but there is something in him that maybe, just maybe believes in fairy tale love even though they do not necessarily exist.

“love does just happen because your heart is not a clock.” harry turns all his attention to louis, watching how his pink lips move his eyes burning with a fiery passion. “you don’t wind up love like a watch that’s five minutes behind, or set it like an alarm, or control like a stopwatch. it comes into our lives without any expectations, rules, or even limitations, it’s almost as if love is free and it is…” harry awes at him because he never thought of love as what he has described it as. “love that is.”

he finds himself slowly saying, “like a watch without hands.”

louis agrees in the same slow tone as him. “exactly.”

being who harry is he has to point out to louis that love is not actually as aesthetic as he makes it sound. “but you know what they say…” louis swallows, waiting for him to continue, “love is about timing after all.” louis cocks his head to one side sending him a questioning look. “sometimes you’re late for love, early, literally a few seconds late and sometimes, by some weird intervention, you’re on time…” louis sees harry’s eyes glassy and he immediately blinks them back to normal. “my goodness you are on time and it feels so damn good.”

“is that you with taylor?”

harry found himself telling louis the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“no, my ex-girlfriend vanessa,” he tells him with a soft smile on his face. “she was beautiful, inside and out, and it had been a long time since i ever felt that way, the way it feels like to have your heart racing. i didn’t deserve her for sure but somehow she always wanted me, for whatever reason, and loved me deeply, my flaws and all.”

“what happened?”

he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “taylor got jealous and chased her away. i did everything in my power to make her stay. i would cry, beg, shout for her to stay. i scolded taylor, blurted her out to her parents, wrecked what she loved but she didn’t budge. i got so desperate i asked niall to help me but taylor had a finger wrapped around him. i continued begging her to stay, to give me a chance, to prove to myself that i was worth her time and love, reminding her of what we were, but she didn’t budge. then one day, she said she’d stay, she’d never leave me. she promised and i believed her. the next day i saw a note saying _sorry_.” he repeats, “sorry.” he scoffs and quickly wiping a tear off his cheek. “sorry.”

“that’s horrible harry,” louis says. he wraps his arms around harry’s shoulders, his neck hanging on harry’s shoulders. “you smell like lemons,” harry hums. louis slightly chuckles.

“then i was back with taylor, months after my father found out we weren’t together. i had to. i had no choice, but by then it didn’t matter because love is not patient, it doesn’t roar, it bleeds, it hurts without pleasure in the horizon, it keeps a record of wrongs, love does not care for the truth, and most importantly it gives up. it fails.”

louis is starting to understand harry a little more. it is more than just vanessa, it is everyone in his life who lets him down. his father who constantly reminds harry how far behind he is, his mother who barely speaks to him, his girlfriend who is impatient with him and scoffs when he does not get her the yatch she specifically asks for, his friends who one by one stop visiting him after they all learn he was suicidal, and not forgetting the little love he has for himself.

“would you have her back again if you could rewind time?” louis asks. truth be told he wants harry to say no but he really wants harry to trust him, to be open and that is exactly what harry is doing, trusting louis, like he did with vanessa before.

he clears his throat, leaning his stomach on the couch like louis. “i would in a heartbeat. because i get to have all the good times i had with vanessa all over again. i know she made me mad when she finally saw me like the rest of them but she believed in me.” he shifts the attention to louis by asking him the same question. “what about you, did you ever feel the same with your ex-boyfriend?”

“ex-girlfriend,” he corrects him. “her name is eleanor and we were best friends for a long time so we both suddenly came out to each other saying how we felt and it was mutual. honestly it felt better that we were lovers than friends.” harry swallows an angry gulp. “then this time at her 17th birthday she invited her friends over, including her bestfriend max. i didn’t know him, he didn’t know me but it felt so right…” he adds, deep in thought, “too right. and every day after that we kept talking, soon we were sucking each other off, i stopped wishing eleanor goodnight, stopped talking to her all together and then she found out.” harry gasps lightly. “max told her.”

harry waits for louis to continue but he does not. harry does not push him, probably not wanting to tell him what happened after _whatever was happening between him and max_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said before, the cinderella movie is the bestest movie [:


	22. 0.21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and harry take an impromptu trip to oxford university....

sitting down in mrs maths class, trisha advices louis that he should probably get new clothes because all he has been wearing since january is adidas jackets, shirts, pants, even underwear if adidas ever had an underwear line.

“adidas is very comfy,” he defends himself. “plus i don’t look that bad.”

“you look like you live at the gym. ironic because you never hit the gym.”

“i do,” reasons louis. “i literally have to walk to the bus stop, get off, then walk to the underground, get off then walk again to school. that’s enough exercise for a day.”

before their table is harry styles who seems to have come out of nowhere. he takes one look at trisha, the look of “go away”, and she does to the table behind louis. harry turns to louis, the adidas boy smiling up at him wondering how he is doing.

harry however does not smile and instead asks on a serious note, “did you mean it, when you said that we’re friends?”

louis nods quickly. “yes. yes i did.”

harry then sits to his left and pockets out his phone saying nothing else. mrs maths walks into class flustered and disorderly like always. she reminds the class that they only have a few weeks left to submit their project based on a film about aliens. louis takes quick glances at harry whose eyebrows are furrowed in the middle, his lip tight and jaw clenched. he can tell that harry is definitely not concentrating on what mrs maths is teaching but rather something else is weighing heavy on his mind.

the bell rings and louis is packing his belongings into his backpack. he gets off his chair and harry’s voice stops him. he speaks quickly, “i got my rejection letters from a couple of ivy league schools and my father found out.” harry lets out a loud breath. he gazes up at louis who is standing before him at the edge of the table, several students passing behind him to get out of class.

“i…i had no idea,” he tells him. he really has no idea what to say to this. “which universities?”

“oxford, harvard, princeton, and others i don’t even remember anymore. all my father read was harvard, didn’t care about the rest. he didn’t even look at me the whole trip. i reminded him of the other ivys i was accepted into but all the cares about is harvard and yale. all i have is yale and now i’m not sure i will even get it. it’s like suddenly i’m being rejected like a wild fire from all the ivys.”

“which is the closest ivy from london?” louis asks him. harry gazes at him with a questioning look. he blinks several times and tells him it is oxford university. “let’s drive there after school.”

“what? are you insane? that wouldn’t help with anything!”

“fook that harry! if you truly want something, you don’t let anyone or anything get in the way of what you really want.”

“i got rejected, that’s pretty much all there is to it,” reasons harry deflated. “there’s nothing else left.”

“do you want to go to oxford?”

“it won’t make a difference if i drive there right now, or next week—” louis interrupts him by repeating his previous question. “yes i do but—”

“then come on, let’s drive to oxford. now.”

harry cheekily smiles. this is sounding like one of his adventurous adventures with mckenzie but now he is with louis – and even more daring of an adventure. they take harry’s swanky car (it is not like louis had one anyhow) and drive to oxford university. the whole ride, harry is not sure what to say, or do, because really, what is he to tell them after they have sent him a rejection letter?

a couple of hours later, two missed calls from taylor and 12 texts and eight missed calls liam on harry’s phone, they arrive at oxford university. harry’s nerves are now getting to him and he is thinking this is a bad idea and why would he listen to louis?

he nevertheless walks to the administration office, louis is tow, and asks where the office of the dean is. he is directed to it and knocks on the door. well, almost knocks. his hand freezes before the old, brown door.

“knock dammit!”

“i—i ca—can’t do this.” harry steps back from the door and hits his back to the wall. “i can’t.”

“listen here asshead,” louis tells him, with a small smile on his face so that harry knows he is not serious with the insult, “i don’t know why you think you can’t because from where i’m standing you can. you’ve got the abilities, you’ve got the brains, the book smart and all that, and one rejection? three? what are those? nothing. those mean nothing because you know what?” harry’s gaze is intently on louis, soaking in every word. “they don’t want you here but you’ve always, always got to prove them that you’re worth it, and at the end of it all, if they say they don’t want you, it’s their loss.”

louis holds onto harry’s shoulders. “you’ve got the power and a lot of fight left in you. whatever chain is holding you down, don’t let it tie you back asshead.”

“i can do this!” harry tells himself, psyching himself up.

“hell yeah fooking right!”

they both walk in, louis slightly pushing him through the door. at first the dean is surprised to see dr styles’ son walking through his door to talk about his rejected letter. he vehemently tells him to walk out because it is a done deal. harry gives up and stands up. louis forcefully sits him back down and harry nods. he turns back to the dean to explain why _he_ was rejected, because he did everything right and to their standards, if not better.

the dean explains, giving in, that his personal statement was horrible. everything else was excellent and very impressive. harry asks to take a look at his personal statement and sees where he went wrong. he gapes at it, and his jaw drops lower and lower until his feet if it were possible. this was definitely not his personal statement, he wrote no such thing.

“how can you not have written it?” asks the dean, not believing a word harry is telling him. “you submitted it yourself.”

“yes i did but this was not it. i did not talk about any of what is on this statement.”

“if not you then who else?” asks the dean. harry frowns. “now you know why you got rejected.” harry remains quiet because he knows what went wrong, how it is possible that his personal statement did not make it to the dean’s desk. taylor is all the explanation he needs. he does not know how taylor somehow got wind of his _actual_ personal statement, changed it, and sent the one in his hands, but it does not matter now.

“what if he gives you the one he wrote?” louis asks the dean. harry gazes up at louis then at the dean.

“well, we can’t really…,” he begins, finding his words, “…we’ve never had this situation before.”

“but he got rejected because of his statement so if he gives you his original statement then you will look at it and then decide if he should be accepted on a fair and square basis.”

“i…i guess,” the dean slowly says. he turns to harry and asks, “do you have your personal statement?” harry nods. he pockets out his phone and opens his email, sending the dean his personal statement, the real one. “got it. now kindly step outside as i read it.”

outside his office, harry is pacing up and down, and louis is sitting on the cold floor. his mind is rallying in his head, he is cracking his fingers one by one, still pacing up and down. what if he gets rejected? again?

he stops pacing up and down to see louis scrolling down his phone. “are you seriously going to keep scrolling as i pull out my hair?” he questions him. “i’m stressing out that the dean will reject me the second time and this is going to be humiliating and my father will never make me forget it. he’ll keep reminding me of how much of a failure i am and that i am—”

“harry, sit,” he tells him, patting the space near him. harry makes a face but louis does not budge. harry sighs and plonks himself down. “i’m going to tell you a story so that hopefully you’ll come down.”

“okay,” he says biting down on his lip. “i like stories.”

louis begins. “this is the story about john. one time, john went.” louis remains quiet and harry waits for him to talk again. he darts his eyes around his eyeballs waiting for louis to continue then turns to face him as in indicating for him to continue. “that’s it,” louis says.

“what? that’s it?” louis nods at him. “where did john go?” he asks him, curiosity taking over him and the worry of not getting accepted into oxford out of his mind. “what did he do?”

“that’s the entire story, john went.”

“what kind of story is that anyway?” grumbles harry. “where did he go? who was john? where was his house? why was he going wherever he was going? or is going? is the story in the present or the future?”

louis chuckles a little bit. “you need to enjoy the story you little shit and not ask too many questions.”

“the story does not make sense.”

“john went,” repeats louis. “john just simply went.”

“went where?” harry whines. just then the door to the dean’s opens up, harry springing to his feet in seconds that the dean is a little surprised. “well?” he asks the dean. his heart is beating out of his body at this second.

“i read your personal statement, twice and to say i’m impressed is an understatement. it was written with passion and that’s what oxford is looking for, something a little out of the ordinary. you’re accepted mr styles,” he tells him. he takes out his hand for harry to shake. “welcome to oxford… in a couple of years.”

“thank you,” he says flustered and out of breath. he takes his head and begins shaking it. “thank you so much dean. this means a lot to me you have no idea.”

“yeah well, if it was not for your friend over there,” he says pointing at louis standing behind harry, “then i don’t think you would have gotten in. he’s got the cocky confidence of donald trump.”

as the dean turns to his room, harry turns to louis surprising him with a huge hug. louis laughs into the hug, holding him tighter. he can feel him radiating with happiness and a new sense of self-confidence.

“i’m happy for you!” he tells harry almost in a whisper that sends goosebumps down harry’s arms.

“i have a story,” harry smirks and louis nods for him to continue. “‘harry got into oxford. now that’s a story that makes sense and is better than ‘john went.’”

louis swats his arm playfully. “whatever asshead, my story is better anyway.”

“you wish,” harry scoffs. louis wraps his arm around harry’s bicep and sincerity deep in his voice, he says, “i’m happy for you.” harry turns to him, his smile reaching his eyes this time.


	23. 0.22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets a whale tattoo and Louis goes to the public pool....

louis groans once again because taking his sisters to the public pool is not the way he wants to spend his saturday afternoons. or any afternoons for that matter. he glances at fizzy dipping her legs in the pool while lottie is swimming around with her boyfriend greg in the deep end. the only reason he came is because he did not trust greg, even though everyone did, and also because his dad told him he had to avoid a drowning incident, again.

he takes out his phone from his pocket and sees he has a text from harry.

 

**HARRY:** I got a tattoo of a whale on my thigh =]

**LOUIS:** Why would you? (YAAAY TO EMOJIS :}}}}}}})

**HARRY:** Because whales are beautiful and I got a joke out of it.

**LOUIS:** Oh no!

**HARRY:** It’s funny, c’mon here me out.

**LOUIS:** NO!!

**HARRY:** Please!!

**LOUIS:** NOOOO

**HARRY:** PLEEEEASE

**LOUIS:** Have you eaten lunch yet?

**HARRY:** Don’t change the subject.

**LOUIS:** You get 3 jokes a day and you have 1 more and it’s only 1:57PM. How will you ever make it?

**HARRY:** I WILL

**LOUIS:** Fine. Why did you get a whale tattoo?

**HARRY:** Because “I whale you”

**LOUIS:** Bye! WE ARE NEVER TALKING AGAIN SHITTY

**HARRY:** Shitty?

**LOUIS:** Yeah, didn’t think through that one.

**HARRY:** I still whale you even with your pathetic insults.

**LOUIS:** THEY AREN’T DICKHEAD.

**HARRY:** New one.

**LOUIS:** ASSHOLE

**HARRY:** Original

**LOUIS:** I forgot how annoying public pools are! Bloody kids everywhere, running around in their ugly ass swimsuits, terrible bikinis with camel toes, and icky hair that hasn’t been washed in what looks like 3 months.

**HARRY:** You should’ve come to MY pool. It’s big, free and you don’t see annoying kids in loose bikinis.

**LOUIS:** My answer would always be no. I keep telling you this but you still ask.

**HARRY:** Because it’s no bother. Plus I like your sister Fizzy.

**LOUIS:** One jumped into the pool splashing water everywhere!!!! WHAT THE FOOK!! THESE KIDS HONESTLY! WHO RAISED THEM?!!??!!?

**HARRY:** Haha short temper?

**LOUIS:** ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

**HARRY:** Is it just the kid who jumped into the pool?

**LOUIS:** Lottie broke my death star!

**HARRY:** No caps?

**LOUIS:** WORKING ON MY FOOKING ANGER.

**HARRY:** How did she break it?

**LOUIS:** She ran into it. But she knows how important the Death Star was so I think she lied to me to cover up for WHO REALLY BROKE IT

**HARRY:** It’s not Greg if that’s what you’re thinking.

**LOUIS:** WHO THE FOOK ELSE WOULD IT BE?

**HARRY:** It’s not him.

**LOUIS:** Great, you’re on his fooking side now?

**HARRY:** Okay okay. I’m sorry. Let’s put Greg as the first culprit. Then your sister Lottie. I don’t think Fizzy did it. What about Ernie?

**LOUIS:** BARELY WALKING!

**HARRY:** Is this why you went to the pool? To keep an eye on Greg?

**LOUIS:** Dad said I should take them to avoid another drowning incident.

**HARRY:** Another?

**LOUIS:** Lottie drowned once before. I had gone to take a hot dog and next thing I know Lottie is drowning in the pool because some mean girls were pushing her down.

**HARRY:** I’m sorry.

**LOUIS:** It’s fine. And now, whenever the girls want to go for swimming I have to go too.

**HARRY:** My pool would’ve been a good idea.

**LOUIS:** Not in a million years.

**HARRY:** It’s heated.

**LOUIS:** Yeah yeah, so is Liam’s but nah.

**HARRY:** Mine’s better than Liam’s.

**LOUIS:** Sure it is. Anyway, when did you get the tattoo?

**HARRY:** Yesterday so now I can’t get into the pool because apparently you can’t let water get on a tattoo.

**LOUIS:** Didn’t you know this?

**HARRY:** I did but my others aren’t as big as my whale tattoo. I really whale it.

**LOUIS:** KILL ME NOW!

**HARRY:** I’M HILARIOUS

**LOUIS:** You’ve passed your limit of 3 jokes per day.

**HARRY:** We should have this reviewed.

**LOUIS:** OBJECTION

**HARRY:** OBJECTION TO OBJECT!!!

**LOUIS:** My ass is on fire. Like the diarrhea fire.

**HARRY:** EW! You can never trust public pools. GET OUT NOW!

**LOUIS:** Nope. Couple more hours down here under the bloody sun.

**HARRY:** Let me pick you up and come to my pool instead.

**LOUIS:** DON’T YOU DARE BECAUSE I STILL WON’T ENTER YOUR BLOODY CAR

**HARRY:** *gets car keys*

**LOUIS:** *glares at you*

**LOUIS:** *burns the keys with eyes*

**HARRY:** *takes other car key*

**LOUIS:** *BURNS ALL YOUR CAR KEYS*

**HARRY:** Fine. I’ll stay at home if you promise to update me on Greg.

**LOUIS:** They’re eating a hot dog. Then just a minute ago this stupid girl was flirting with me.

**HARRY:** What’s her name?

**LOUIS:** We’re done now.

**HARRY:** PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T SAY THAT TO HER? :O

**LOUIS:** Made her leave.

**LOUIS:** Oh fuck.

**LOUIS:** FOOK FOOK FOOK

**LOUIS:** FOOKKKK MEE

**HARRY:** What?

**HARRY:** What?

**HARRY:** What?

**HARRY:** TELL ME LOUIS WHAT’S HAPPENING?

**LOUIS:** That girl is Greg’s sister!!!!!!

**HARRY:** OH NO LOUIS

**LOUIS:** Oh no FOOKMEINTHEASS!! Shit Lottie is coming now. She looks mad.

**HARRY:** What’s happening?

**HARRY:** What’s happening?

**HARRY:** LOUIS!

**HARRY:** Louis what is GOING ON?

**HARRY:** Don’t leave me hanging!!!

**HARRY:** LOUIS YOURMIDDLENAME TOMLINSON

**HARRY:** I’M GOING TO MAKE A JOKE!!!

**HARRY:** I’m not lying.

**HARRY:** I swear I am

**LOUIS:** DON’T!

**HARRY:** Good you’re back. And also good to know that I can get you back easily if I threaten to tell you a joke.

**HARRY:** Now tell me what happened with Lottie?

**LOUIS:** She said I was rude to Greg’s sister and should’ve been thoughtful she was even flirting with someone like me.

**HARRY:** Yeah Tomlinson, should’ve been thoughtful. Listen to Lottie.

**LOUIS:** Fook off asshead!

**HARRY:** Well can’t she tell you’re not into her?

**LOUIS:** DIM HEADED BRUNNETTE GIRLS ARE A BORE

**LOUIS:** Oh no me she is back!!

**HARRY:** What is she doing?

**LOUIS:** Small talk. “How hot is this sun?” “Very.”

**HARRY:** Small talk is not so bad. You get to know someone like their interests such as if they’re into sports, finance, birds.

**HARRY:** Which are quite interesting.

**LOUIS:** What do you know birds?

**HARRY:** Nothing but I want an owl tattoo. What would you have?

**LOUIS:** Squid.

**HARRY:** That’s not a bird!

**LOUIS:** SQUID!!

**HARRY:** IT’S NOT A TYPE OF BIRD!!!

**LOUIS:** I know. It’s pretty obvious Harry -_____-

**HARRY:** -_______-

**LOUIS:** Who likes the weather anyway?

**HARRY:** I do. Like people in the Southern Hemisphere are always in good weather, hot hot and hot. Not freezing like popsicles all the damn time.

**LOUIS:** WE ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE WEATHER BECAUSE I DON’T LIKE SMALL TALK!

**HARRY:** Why not?

**LOUIS:** I’d rather you text me, without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning ;]

**HARRY:** I’m on the right track I guess.

**LOUIS:** Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about time you spent at your granny’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in Jesus. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours and hours about things you don’t find important because I promise I do want to hear everything.

**HARRY:** Wow!

**LOUIS:** Yeah

**HARRY:** I had no idea. Most people I text, or call, don’t really care. We never talk past shopping, money and where we are going for the holidays. Like this summer.

**LOUIS:** Well you can talk about that stuff but talking about MORE than these things is more important.

**HARRY:** It is. Though I wouldn’t know what that feels like. You’re the only one who I talk about more than shopping. Money. Parents jobs, hair products and street racing in our father’s cars.

**LOUIS:** How come?

**HARRY:** You’re warm Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how public pools are in real life, never been in one.


	24. 0.23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam makes a visit to Taylor....

liam shuts off the engine and gets out of his car heading to taylor’s door.

yesterday liam slept with a grin on his face because one, he felt that harry was trusting him again and second, he did not try to jump off when he was on the roof. his rooftop incidences are never good, always bad news, but yesterday he just smoked some kush, drank _one_ beer and that was it. liam smiled because he knew that somehow louis being in his life is a good thing because louis’ compassion is louder than harry’s demons.

liam rings the doorbell and out emerges a housekeeper. he informs her that he needs to immediately speak to taylor and she nods, telling him that taylor is up in her room. he heads upstairs knowing where to go as he has been here before, not just in the day.

taylor turns her attention from her phone to see liam stepping onto the large balcony. she rolls her eyes and goes back to typing on her phone. “i’m busy liam.”

“you’re never busy for me.”

“i’m not fooking you. i’m with harry now,” she says, “in case your dim brain did not realize that.”

liam takes out his dunhill packet and lights up his cigarette. he takes two drags, and tells her he missed her. “you and i haven’t hanged out in a long time, we should do it again.”

“you haven’t found anyone knew to keep on your leash?”

“none as good as you,” he smiles at her. he takes another drag.

“smoking isn’t good for you,” she says, huffing in annoyance. she puts her phone upside down on the table. “harry isn’t responding to my texts. maybe i should go over there.”

“maybe you shouldn’t,” he disagrees with her, “he’s busy.”

“what are you doing here?” she wonders. her eyes are glossed with blankness. “you never come over unless you want something or you’re an ass.”

liam crushes his cigarette on the table, ignoring taylor’s death glares. “you need to leave harry alone. he’s doing better without you constantly in his life, making demands and whatnot because you’ve got him on a blackmail leash, along with three-quarters of the school.”

“in your dreams.”

“stop telling your father to mess with his father’s company, making up fake allegations about corruption, fraud, and whatnot just so that he knows that he can’t leave you or else poor daddy with be broke.”

“that’s not how it works. he loves me.”

liam lets out a dry laugh. “love is money in the world we live in.”

“you’re just here because of that louis kid,” she says, facing him proper, “who just happens to be your ugly best friend. but this is harry, he is just infatuated by him and a few days later, harry will have someone new to be lusting over. he always comes back to me.” liam steals a glance at her. “remember vanessa?”

“so?”

“so, this is vanessa all over again. he thinks he has found love for the very first time because louis is different, and kind, and sweet, and not snobby like us? please!”, she snorts rolling her eyes, “it’s all a lie.” she adds firmly, “and besides, he is not gay.”

“louis is gay.”

she almost screams at him. “harry isn’t gay!”

“true because he is bisexual,” liam says calmly bringing his cigarette to brush his lips. “but details, right?”

“what’s your point?”

he gets off his chair and faces her, his aura now serious. “you’re new money taylor, all of you are and you seem to always be forgetting that.” taylor’s breathes in, then out. “do i need to remind you?”

“no.” she swallows hard. “you don’t need to.”

liam walks over to her and looks her straight in the eye, locking her body against the window to the balcony. “if you pull the same stunt you did with vanessa to make louis run away, i’ll end you this time taylor without blinking.”

“you-you wo-wouldn’t dare,” she shakily says. her palms are flat against the window, her pupils dilated in fear. “you wouldn’t liam. this is beyond even you. you’re not that mean.”

“you know why this time i won’t go easy on you?” he pauses, and taylor does not say anything. weirdly, she is turned on right now by liam’s machismo act. “louis is my best friend and i’d do anything for him. if he’s hurt, you’re back to illinois.” she swallows. “and you know i never joke about that.”

“you said you wouldn’t tell anyone about illinois.”

“no one knows but us two as long as louis and harry are both fine.” he takes a step back and smiles at her. “have a great night.” and with that he steps into her bedroom, making his way to his jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what happened in illinois ? [;


	25. 0.24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haylor go on their weekly date....

**_(taylor and harry are having dinner at the fancy butter restaurant. taylor is dressed in a shimmering red dress, and red lipstick while harry is donned in a ysl black suit with a bowtie. a waiter approaches their table)_ **

**_ _ **

**waiter:** welcome to butter _(handing them the menu)_ may i have your drinks?

**taylor:** _(looking at the menu)_ i’d like your most expensive red wine _(waiter nods, turns to harry)_

**harry:** with water please _(waiter walks away, reading through the menu)_ what would you like tay?

**taylor:** i don’t know. something light because lately i’m feeling bloated and i ate 200 calories yesterday and couldn’t bloody lose it at the gym today morning.

**harry:** _(eyes scanning the menu through the ‘chicken’ options)_ mhmm.

**taylor:** so then kendall comes into the gym and sees me running on the treadmill and she tells me that i’ve added weight _(puts down menu)_ me? added weight? _(tinge of anger)_ like the hell is she talking about _(gritting teeth)_ no i have not added weight.

**harry:** _(deadpan)_ wow, how could she.

**taylor:** right? so then i tell her that, no, i haven’t added weight but she did. i may add weight but at least i can lose it but she can’t lose her dirty personality.

**harry:** _(waiter returns with a note pad, harry closes the menu_ ) i’d like the chicken with croye taydar.

**taylor:** _(looks at harry waiting for him to say her order, huffs when he remains quiet, looks up at the waiter)_ i’d like the lopeq h’cuid salad _(waiter smiles at them taking their menus, walks away)_ he smells like shit.

**harry:** _(shrugs, pours himself a glass of water)_ how was your day today?

**taylor:** i just fooking told you about kendall.

**harry:** after that.

**taylor:** i went shopping with gigi and we had a lot to talk about.

**harry:** like what?

**taylor:** like what she should do with her hair now that she has been dating zayn for what, _(questioning)_ three months? we got her the cute mac nude lipstick _(harry nods)_ and then i got myself this new red lipstick _(pouts her lips)_ do you like?

**harry:** _(blank)_ love _(waiter comes back to their table, places two wine glasses on the table, and fills the glasses with red wine)_ thank you _(waiter walks away)_

**taylor:** _(sighs loudly, grabs napkin on the table and places on her lap, harry mimicking her actions)_ harry, i don’t want you to be in a mood today like you always do. at least smile on our dates which aren’t that many.

**harry:** honestly, after the goat incident? _(pouring wine into his glass)_ how could i not be in a mood?

**taylor:** he makes me wet more than you ever do.

**harry:** then go date him.

**taylor:** _(takes a sip of her wine)_ i love you, not him.

**harry:** _(rolls eyes)_ you have a funny way of showing you love me _(sips wine)_

**taylor:** _(irritated)_ i’m trying, horribly trying to get past this _(inhales)_ for us to start over again _(exhales)_ and this is what this date is for, a do-over _(accusing)_ and you’re a hypocrite because you’ve cheated as well.

**harry:** not when we were dating _(taylor frowns)_ we had broken up for what, three weeks, so i didn’t cheat on you.

**taylor:** but you slept with her so technically it’s cheating because you know i don’t like her.

**harry:** gigi isn’t a terrible person.

**taylor:** so… _(disbelief)_ you’re saying that you’ve never cheated on me? not once?

**harry:** _(shakes his head)_ no because unlike you i respect relationships _(waiter comes to their table holding their foods, places them on the table mumbling “enjoy”, to waiter)_ thank you. _(waiter walks away)_

**taylor:** but you know how i feel about gigi, she’s just a leech on us because we’re spawns of wealth _(digs into her lopeq h’cuid salad with a fork)_ and she’s not.

**harry:** _(rolls eyes, chewing his chicken)_ can we talk about something else?

**taylor:** fine _(curt)_ what?

**harry:** _(enthusiasm)_ pierre nkurunziza is facing a lot of backlash from the international community because he sort of illegally took power.

**taylor:** who the fuck is nkuru _(groans)_ nku _(groans more)_ nkuron _(puts fork down on her plate noisily, whines_ ) nsomebody!

**harry:** _(deadpan)_ the president of burundi.

**taylor:** why do we care about him? _(rolling her eyes)_ he’s all the way in asia.

**harry:** burundi is in africa, taylor.

**taylor:** why do we care about him?

**harry:** because it’s good knowledge.

**taylor:** i don’t care about some president who illegally or legally got into power.

**harry:** fine _(sinks into his chair, twirling fork on his plate)_ what do you want to talk about?

**taylor:** did you hear about mckenzie and brian dating, personally i don’t think they’ll last because brian is a chronic cheater, he’s just in it for the money.

**harry:** isn’t everyone?

**taylor:** i should be asking you.

**harry:** what does that mean?

**taylor:** louis _(puts a fork of lopeq h’cuid salad in her mouth)_

**harry:** _(squints eyes)_ what about him?

**taylor:** haven’t you questioned why he is always with you? out of nowhere?

**harry:** no.

**taylor:** well you should. we live in a world where people are in it for the money and nothing else.

**harry:** _(pours wine into his glass, and then taylor’s)_ you blackmail people into doing your bidding.

**taylor:** well if people did not have secrets then i wouldn’t need to. like you and your secret _(harry stops chewing, gazes up at her)_ don’t look at me like that. nobody knows about her _(harry continues chewing)_ but if you break up with me, everyone will know the truth about gemma.

**harry:** it’s funny how i know nothing about you.

**taylor:** _(laughs)_ baby you know so much about me. plus if i tell you everything, when we’re married there’ll be no mystery left.

**harry:** i told you about my sister in confidence taylor (in a whisper) or because niall was going to tell you about it.

**taylor:** baby don’t be upset. i won’t tell anyone. plus you know about my alcoholic brother.

**harry:** _(rigid)_ everybody knows about your brother tay.

**taylor:** you’re boring me now. this is meant to be a fresh start yet you’re stuck in the past.

**harry:** _(raises voice)_ you keep bloody cheating on me.

**taylor:** _(raises her voice too)_ you give me a reason to baby

**harry:** _(slams glass down on the table, furious)_ like what? i’m loyal to you tay, i take you to exotic places during the holidays, i stopped fooking around when you asked even before we dated, i spend an insane amount of time with you, i bought you the rare one out of the six rolls royce in the world, i got you a yatch, i’ve done so much for you even without you blackmailing me, i still do and you know why, because i fooking care about you.

**taylor:** it’s not enough. you don’t tell me ‘i love you’ anymore.

**harry:** you know how i feel about you.

**taylor:** you don’t love me as much as you did with vanessa. you don’t compliment me, like did you even say anything about my dress? _(harry looks down at her red dress)_ no you didn’t. and did we even kiss when you picked me up?

**harry:** can we drop this?

**taylor:** no! _(waiter comes to their table, angry)_ what do you want?

**waiter:** more water?

**taylor:** no! and don’t come back.

**harry:** taylor! _(waiter nods to them, walks away)_ don’t be rude _(forced)_ babe.

**taylor:** _(smiles)_ much better _(continues eating)_ and we need to go shopping tomorrow. have you heard about zayn?

**harry:** no _(sips wine)_ where is he?

**taylor:** i don’t know _(puts down fork and knife on her half eaten salad)_ gigi is asking. your mother called too.

**harry:** _(unfazed)_ what did she want?

**taylor:** to go shopping so i thought we should all go together to burberry then mango.

**harry:** i said okay before. i’ll come pick you up at 10 sharp _(taylor smiles)_ are you done?

**taylor:** yeah, the salad is dry today _(clicks her fingers for the waiter, two rush to their table, one picks their plates the other gives them the desert menu)_ hmm _(looking through the menu, flips page)_ oh, the red velvet ice cream cake _(looks at harry)_ to share?

**harry:** sure babe.

**waiter:** _(takes the menus)_ of course, coming right up _(harry mutters a ‘thank you’, walks away)_

**taylor:** _(pouring wine into her glass)_ looks like we’re out of wine _(placing bottle on the table)_

**harry:** what’s up with niall and barbara?

**taylor:** the new girl? _(harry nods)_ a new toy for niall to play with. he’ll get bored after fooking her. _(serious)_ what are we baby?

**harry:** what do you mean?

**taylor:** you and i. i sometimes feel like you don’t want to be with me, should i be worried about other people?

**harry:** i should say the same thing about you _(waiter places their cake in the middle of the table, with two forks as well, to waiter)_ thank you.

**taylor:** why do you keep saying thank you to them? it’s their fooking job.

**harry:** it’s good to be nice _(forks out a piece of cake, feeds taylor the cake)_ tasty?

**taylor:** _(eyes closed, nods)_ mhmm _(opens eyes)_ it’s heaven.

**harry:** _(using the same fork takes a bite of the cake)_ it is good.

**taylor:** that’s all i can eat before kendall thinks i’m fat.

**harry:** _(rolls his eyes)_ you’re not babe. you’re looking good.

**taylor:** thanks baby _(leans in for a kiss, harry gets the hint and leans in to plant a kiss to her red lips_ ) you taste good.

**harry:** you too _(forces)_ babe.

##  scene 2

**(harry is back home. before entering his room, he sees light from mckenzie’s room. he knocks on the door and enters after a voice calls him in)**

** **

**harry:** _(plops down on the bed next to her, he slips under the covers)_ what are you watching?

**mckenzie:** _(eyes on the tv screen)_ nat geo wild.

**harry:** _(rolls head on pillow to get comfortable, his eyes glace at the tv screen mounted on the wall)_ hmm.

**mckenzie:** did you know hippos are the life support system of the mzima springs?

**harry:** where are mzima springs?

**mckenzie:** in the south of kenya _(looks down to face him)_ thanks for my pjs, they’re amazing.

**harry:** welcome. they were batman so i knew instantly that you’d love them.

**mckenzie:** how was the date with voldemort?

**harry:** terrible. same old thing. she gets insecure, talks about how i’m not enough, goes on about her life, drinks too much and eats nothing.

**mckenzie:** where did you go?

**harry:** _(eyes dart above her head, bored)_ butter.

**mckenzie:** hippos are fooking huge though!

**harry:** _(glances at the tv screen)_ they are. even the baby hippos are big!

**mckenzie:** you know if there are no hippos in the springs then the whole spring will become stranded. almost haunted.

**harry:** oh?

**mckenzie:** _(nods)_ yup.

**harry:** can they die?

**mckenzie:** baby hippos can. they can be killed by other the dominant male group in their society or crocodiles _(sees harry texting)_ who are you texting?

**harry:** _(smiles)_ louis. i’m telling him _(tapping his phone)_ sweet dreams tomlinson. now i text tay too with goodnight _(shuffles down into the bed, pulls covers up to his shoulders)_ and now you, goodnight.

**mckenzie:** night harry.

**harry:** everything okay k?

**mckenzie** : _(monotone)_ father drank again. mother asked for a divorce.

**harry:** sorry. you know you’re welcome here anytime.

**mckenzie:** i know. now shut up, i’m learning more about baby hippos _(harry smiles, closes his eyes to sleep)_ goodnight love.


	26. 0.25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall, Zayn and Liam attempt at drawing an apple for Art class....

**_(NIALL, ZAYN and LIAM are in Art class drawing an apple that Mr Postits has left on his desk as he stepped out 15 minutes ago)_ **

**_ _ **

**LIAM:** _(sits on his chair throwing pen against the blank paper in front of him, sighs loudly)_ Apples are bloody hard to draw.

**NIALL:** _(slightly irritated)_ It’s like drawing water!

**LIAM:** How do you draw water?

**NIALL:** _(eyes dart to ZAYN’s drawing of an apple)_ And now Zayn is painting his apple already.

**LIAM:** _(glances at ZAYN’s drawing too)_ What the hell?

**ZAYN:** _(sketching)_ Maybe if you weren’t sober then maybe drawing it would be easier.

**LIAM:** _(eyes still on ZAYN sketching the apple)_ Not really because you’re bloody good anyone.

**NIALL:** High on what?

**ZAYN:** Weed _(eyes flicker to NIALL then back at his drawing)_ what else?

**LIAM:** Hash is pretty good.

**ZAYN:** It is better than pot.

**NIALL:** _(curious)_ Got any?

**LIAM:** You can’t just ask… _(ZAYN pulls out hash from his backpack and gives it to NIALL, grins)_ Of course

**NIALL:** _(places hash between his lips and takes a drag, closes eyes)_ Ye-yes _(opens eyes)_ This is good _(passes it to LIAM)_ Here.

**LIAM:** _(shakes head, NIALL passes it back to ZAYN)_ Nah, need to be sober for this apple.

**NIALL:** It’s not like Mr Postits will care if you’re high or not. I mean Zayn is always high in school anyway.

**ZAYN:** Almost high, not always. In Mrs Maths I can’t be high cause that slut has hawk eyes

**NIALL:** Speaking of sluts, is Barbara one?

**LIAM:** The new girl? _(picks up his pencil, his arms on the table and glances at the apple before him)_ I don’t think so.

**ZAYN:** _(focused on shading the apple darker)_ Gigi said she moved from down under.

**NIALL:** _(gawks)_ Australian? _(swats LIAM’S bicep excitedly, LIAM groans in annoyance)_ Smoking hot! _(to ZAYN)_ What else?

**ZAYN:** Uh _(pouts, deep in thought)_ She loves cycling, her ex-boyfriend was Oscar, and she’s a model.

**LIAM:** Model?

**NIALL:** With what agency? _(groans)_ Please don’t say she’s Insta famous and that’s how she’s a model?

**ZAYN:** No. With IMG models. You know Nadine Leopold, Svetlana, Stella, and the likes.

**NIALL:** She’s perfect. I’m fooking her tonight.

**LIAM:** _(staring at the apple before him)_ She looks like it takes too much to touch her.

**NIALL:** _(punches LIAM’s back)_ I’ve got money dickskin.

**LIAM:** _(groans in pain, turns to NIALL)_ And her ex was the footballer in case your horny ears didn’t hear that part _(ZAYN chuckles)_ and it takes more than money with people like Barbara.

**NIALL:** _(frowns)_ What do you mean?

**ZAYN:** Gigi says she sleeps with people who have connections in the model agency.

**NIALL:** I _(pause)_ do.

**LIAM:** _(starts sketching his apple for the third time)_ Give up because once I talk to her, you’re out of the game mate.

**NIALL:** Shut the fuck up asswipe! _(to ZAYN)_ And how the hell did she date Oscar?

**ZAYN:** Like I said, connections to modeling agencies _(pencil hovers above the drawing, looks at NIALL questioningly)_ Do you really have any?

**NIALL:** Kendall is in the Victoria Secret’s modeling agency right? _(LIAM nods)_ Then we’re done.

**LIAM:** Or I could just tell her she has a spot with her name written on it in VS show this June _(shrugs)_ No biggie.

**NIALL:** _(small gasp)_ You can’t pull that, even for you.

**ZAYN:** _(puts pencil on his drawing, turns to the two of them)_ You know what Oscar did for her? _(they both shake their heads)_ He bought her two dogs, some house in Perth, another by the beach in Melbourne, two Cadillacs and one Ferrari, and for her parents a two-month cruise around Australia, NZ and then vacationing in Fiji for another month all paid by Oscar.

**LIAM:** So? I’ll give her more.

**NIALL:** I can fuck her better _(ZAYN rolls his eyes returning to sketching the apple before him_ ) I can.

**LIAM:** No you can’t with your… what, 3 inch dick?

**NIALL:** _(snorts)_ Says the one who cums after 30 seconds of a blowjob.

**LIAM:** You can’t eat pussy!

**ZAYN:** Doesn’t matter fellas because she’s interested in Harry _(NIALL and LIAM gape at him, shrugs returning to sketching)_ according to what Gigi told me.

**NIALL:** Again? _(furious)_ I’m sick and tired of everyone thinking Harry is hotter than the rest of us because you know what, he isn’t. We’re just as good, if not better.

**LIAM:** You aren’t, I could be.

**ZAYN:** Either way, forget about Barbara and move onto the next one.

**LIAM:** There’s another?

**NIALL:** Who is it?

##  Scene 2

**_(HARRY walks into the Art classroom, sighing happily the teacher has stepped out. He makes his way to ZAYN’s desk at the back of the class, passing the heart eyes girls are throwing at him)_ **

**LIAM:** Hey mate!

**HARRY:** Hey! Hi Zayn _(ZAYN’s gaze flickers to HARRY, nods at him, then goes back to sketching, HARRY sits near LIAM)_ I need to ask you something.

**NIALL:** I’m right here.

**HARRY:** _(rolls eyes at NIALL, to LIAM)_ Have you seen Louis?

**LIAM:** No, not really. He doesn’t have Art right now, he should be in his Chemistry class.

**HARRY:** He hasn’t come to school in _(holds up three fingers)_ three days, Li.

**NIALL:** _(spits)_ Are you seriously ignoring me dickskin?

**LIAM:** _(sharpening his pencil)_ I’m pretty sure he’s fine. If there was anything wrong _(blows inside his sharpener)_ he’d tell me.

**NIALL:** What the fook cunt? _(ZAYN’s eyes dart from NIALL, to HARRY and LIAM, NIALL and ZAYn lock eyes, Zayn looks back to his sketch)_ I’m right here!

**HARRY:** _(rolls eyes at NIALL, to LIAM))_ You sure? It’s unlike him to miss more than a day of school.

**NIALL:** Why do you care?

**LIAM:** I’ll text him today and tell you _(slight laughter)_ but there’s nothing to worry about.

**HARRY:** _(happy sigh)_ Thanks Li _(sincere)_ Means a lot

**ZAYN:** We driving later tonight?

**HARRY:** _(smiles at ZAYN)_ Of course _(glances at his apple drawing)_ At 8, the usual place?

**ZAYN:** Yeah _(HARRY smiles, heads to the door)_

**NIALL:** _(loud)_ Are you seriously going to fooking walk away and ignore _(door slams shut)_ me?

**LIAM:** _(turning his apple to the left, sketches)_ Give it up Niall.

**ZAYN:** You fooked his girlfriend with a goat, what do you expect?

**NIALL:** _(scoffs)_ That was one time.

**LIAM:** _(face buried in his hands)_ I still can’t draw this bloody apple.


	27. 0.26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's father, Dr Styles, is in town....

bad news for harry, his father is back, and he has been for two days now and it feels like hell. conveniently his mother left three days ago to thailand for a retreat with her single friends. it is not going well for harry because all his father ever talks about is rejection from oxford (harry cannot say that he got accepted because the dean is yet to send the acceptance letter), princeton, columbia amongst other ivy leagues. he reminds him that he should get accepted into harvard or yale (if not both) or else he will kiss taking over the family company for good.

as if this is not bad enough, niall tags along, thanks to a persistence dr styles who insists that since niall is harry’s best friend (as far as dr styles know), he should come along for a round of golf and beer afterwards. of course, niall accepts and tags along for the whole afternoon.

it is now almost 6 o’clock and it does not look like he is going home any time soon, nor does niall look like he is leaving. he sighs, pocketing out his phone as the three of them wait for their beers at the table.

still no texts, calls, or video chats from louis. he sent him texts even on whatsepp and there are the blue texts, but still not reply. he is now getting worried because it has been five days that he has not laid his eyes on him and his ass, but mainly him. to say he misses the doncaster lad would be an understatement. he has gotten used to seeing his presence in school that he _almost_ lives to catch a glimpse of him, especially in english class with mrs maths.

he finally replies to mckenzie who has sent him a thread of messages asking how he is getting along with his golf date.

 **harry:** horrible! i think my father wants to adopt niall as his own.

 **k:** AHAH WHY?

 **harry:** all he talks about is university, the company, my grades and niall is generally better than me in school so he praises him. you know what he said?

 **k:** WHAT?

 **harry:** “you’re going to have an excellent future, maybe you should work for my company.”

 **k:** WELL MR STYLES, LOOKS LIKE YOU’LL HAVE TO FEND ON YOUR OWN.

 **harry:** louis hasn’t replied. he’s read my messages on whatsepp though.

 **k:** GIVE HIM TIME. WHAT DID LIAM SAY?

 **harry:** beers are here. talk later

 **k:** KEEP ME UPDATED!!!

with that harry pockets back his phone and looks up to see niall and his father clinking their beer glasses. he rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his own.

“niall, we should have dinner tomorrow night,” suggests dr styles holding to niall’s arm, “you, my son, and taylor. it will be like old times.”

“i insist,” smiles niall. he turns to harry with a big (plastic) smile on his face and asks, “what do you think?”

he forces out a smile. “of course niall. wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“perfect!” grins dr styles. he raises his glass and clinks it with niall’s. “i do miss taylor. i’m sad she could not make it today for a round of golf, she plays pretty well. better than harry over here.”

niall throws his head back in laughter along with dr styles. “he is terrible at golf for sure. he’s even worse at tennis.”

“nothing as bad as being terrible at golf. how is it possible?”

harry interrupts them, saying, “taylor was busy to come today.”

“i know,” he says harshly at him then to dr styles with a smile, “i told your father that.”

“please, call me des.” he leans closer to niall as if whispering something to him yet his voice is loud. “if it were possible, _son_.”

“dad,” smiles niall and they both laugh again. harry rolls his eyes and takes huge gulp of beer.

“that sounds amazing,” chuckles dr styles. “son.”

“dad.”

“son.”

“dad.”

dr styles and niall stop laughing and turn to harry. dr styles sighs before saying, “what do i keep saying about interrupting?” and takes a swig of his beer.

“he does that all the time,” sighs niall. harry rolls his eyes and he is getting worried they might roll of his head and roll across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this lunch thing is very awkward if you ask me \:


	28. 0.27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry gives louis a visit after being silent for a while....

harry takes matters into his own hands.

thankfully his father has gone back to canada for his work and his mother is back home. honestly, he would choose his mother any day over his father even though they are both terrible choices. he keeps avoiding niall like the plague but cannot shake off taylor.

anyway, he turns off his cadillac and crosses the street, his nose not liking the smell of something like burnt tyre. he walks up to louis’ door and rings the bell. he rings it again. he thinks it is broken because he just left his finger on the doorbell for a good minute and hears nothing from the inside.

he opts for knocking which thankfully works because johannah opens the door. “hi, i’m harry,” he greets. he sees that her eyes are red, swollen and her mouth is tugging downwards. “is louis in?”

she sniffs once. “yeah, he’s upstairs,” she says. she steps aside and makes his way inside. he turns back to her and asks if she is okay. “lottie passed away.” harry gapes. “she passed away a week ago suddenly when we went to visit my husband’s aunt in yorkshire.”

“i’m sorry.” what else can he say?

“he may not be ready to talk about it,” she tells him, talking of louis, “between me and you, lottie was louis’ favorite.” she smiles however it is nothing but happy. harry nods and makes his way upstairs. then he makes his way up to the attic, praying the ladder does not break beneath his feet.

the first thing he notices is the smell, the horrid smell of cigarettes. don’t get him wrong, he does not mind cigarettes (because he secretly smokes them when at parties) but this was too much. he almost feels like he just walked in a chimney. speaking of, he sees a huge pile of dirty laundry by the corner and he has to mentally ignore the pile. his gaze goes to the bed and there lies louis, if that is louis.

“louis?” he calls out. a small grump comes from beneath the covers. “you okay?” another grump, this time louder. “your mother let me in.” a louder grump but longer is heard from beneath the covers. harry has tried his level best in ignoring the stench and piles of laundry but he cannot anymore.

he rolls up the sleeves of his ysl, red silk shirt and gets down to work. he begins by opening all the windows to let in fresh air. next he grabs all the clothes on the floor, his arm filling up quite quickly that he takes almost seven rounds to the laundry basket by the closet. then he makes his way to the bathroom, sending fizzy a warm smile and a hug on the corridor, and shuts the door.

he makes up his mind that he is going to give louis a bubble bath. he always makes one for mckenzie whenever she is is feeling gloomy and she ends up feeling a little better, if not a lot better, after a bubble bath. he rummages through the cabinets looking for what he needs as warm water fills the white tub.

finally, his bath is filled with lots of bubbles, and a faint smell of mangoes (he opts for mango-scented than lemon-scented) and he wants to get in the bath right there and then but stops himself. he makes his way to louis’ bed, gently nudging his shoulders for him to wake up.

he is only greeted by a loud grumbling noise. “louis, please wake up. i made you a bubble bath.”

“why is it so cold?” the voice grunts beneath his covers. “it’s like antarctica in the attic.”

harry gently removes the covers from louis face and the smell immediately hits his nose: sweat and tears. he swallows a gulp of saliva and plasters a small smile on his face. “go have a bath louis. you haven’t gotten out of bed in ages and it’d make me really happy.”

louis instead asks, “did you clean my room?”

harry nods. “yeah.” his eyes are locked on louis’ stained cheeks. “quite a load of dirty clothes you got tomlinson.”

“i don’t want to get out of bed,” grunts louis peering through his lashes at harry.

“i know.” harry nods, biting down on his bottom lip. “trust me i know how it feels to want to spend the rest of your life under covers. but that won’t stop life from moving on.” louis rolls his eyes and mumbles something that harry does not catch. “take the bubble bath and i promise that’s all you’ll do for today.”

“promise?”

harry nods, holding out his pinky finger. “promise.” louis links their pinkies and he lets out a chuckle at harry. “there’s a towel in the bathroom.” louis nods, his back to harry, as he makes his way out of the room. he looks through the room for where louis keeps his bed sheets and gives up when he does not find them. he makes his way downstairs, the dirty sheets on his hand, and finds johannah, louis’ mother, standing by the kitchen counter.

she turns around in surprise, finding harry gazing at her, and sheets held in his hands. “harry, didn’t see you there.” her gaze falls to the sheets in his hand. “are those louis’?”

harry nods. “i was looking for new ones in his room but did not find any.”

johannah lets out a laugh, that mixes with a sob. “louis is not a fan of bed sheets. he’d much rather sleep in blankets. come, let me have those and show you where we keep them.” johannah leads harry out of the kitchen, dirty sheets placed on the kitchen chairs for later and make their way upstairs into a spare room.

louis still in the bathroom, harry and johannah look through for sheets that are for queen sized beds and they find some.

“these are his favorite,” she says handing harry a pair of superman sheets, and two pillow cases. harry nods, thanking her politely. “thank you for this. you don’t know how much louis appreciates this even if he won’t tell you, or show you, he’s happy to have someone be here for him. he truly loved lottie.”

“he always talked about her,” harry smiles fondly remembering the many stories louis had to say about lottie.

harry quickly makes the bed, surprising himself that he can make the corners stick, and loves the clean smell the sheets bring to the room. he spins around when louis lets out a tiny gasp.

“you can make a bed?” he questions. harry rolls his eyes once he sees the playfull smirk on his lips. he walks to harry, donned in fresh gray sweatpants and a black tank top. “wonders never cease with you styles.”

“shut up tomlinson,” harry laughs, getting a whiff of mango as louis makes his way to the bed. “get comfy, i have a story for you.”

“bed time stories?” asks louis, making his way underneath the covers. louis flips his covers and gazes at harry. harry almost misses the downward tug on louis’ lips and his puffy red eyes when he slips near louis in bed but he does, and the image is now glued to his mind. he smiles and soon it is off his face when he takes a look at him: his hair is unkempt, puffy, red cheeks, and he is sure all the glow from his eyes is gone.

 

 

“i’ll be good.” he makes himself comfortable under the convers with louis. they are lying on their sides facing each other, harry’s arm thrown around louis’ middle and louis’ ankle slotted between harry’s feet. harry gazes intently at louis, memorizing his features on his delicate face, the glow that is always present now gone, and it sounds selfish but harry misses the jolly louis.

“what is it?” asks louis in a whisper. however, immediately harry’s heart swells because louis looks like a cute hedgehog that was born just this morning and is learning its way about the world. maybe he likes sad louis as much as happy louis. or maybe he just likes louis.

“well, this is the story of john,” he says with a grin on his face. “john cannot move, nor breathe, speak or even hear.” louis mouths _why_. “it’s so dark all the time and if john knew it would be this lonely he would’ve been cremated instead.”

louis tugs a small smile and harry feels like he is winning. “that was terrible. another one.”

harry licks his lips and moves onto the same story. “one time john’s mother told him not to go in the basement but little john was curious.”

“oh no,” louis fake gasps, “don’t do it, john. and is everyone named john?”

“this is the continuous story about the bloke named john who went.”

“little piece of shit.”

harry lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers holding louis’ torso closer to him. “shut up and let me tell you what john did next.” louis nods, harry continuing his story. “well, before john goes down to the basement he hears a noise that sounds like a puppy. he goes down to the basement because john loves puppies but before he gets to the bottom of the stairs, his mother yanks him back upstairs without seeing where the noise was coming from.

“his mother yells at him, telling him to never go down to the basement again and he got a cookie after that. the cookie almost made him forget why the basement had noises like puppies or why he had no hands or feet.”

“shut up!” louis gasps. “what a twist. so what was it?”

“what was what?”

“what was it, a puppy or a human?” asks louis, shifting closer to harry. harry ignores the small butterflies of louis’ hot breath hitting his chin.

“i can’t tell you that,” harry says.

“why?”

“because john has another story,” beams harry. louis rides harry’s leg with his own up to his knees under the covers and it takes all of harry to focus on his breathing and the stories he had earlier memorized. “john begins tucking his son into bed and the son tells john, ‘daddy, check for monsters under my bed.’ john looks underneath the bed for any and sees him, another him, under the bed, staring back at john. the son is quivering, and whispering, ‘daddy there’s somebody on my bed.’”

louis’ jaw drops slightly, his eyes wide. “fuck me. does john look back up on the bed?” harry remains quiet; he thinks his leg is dead being stuck between louis’. “does he?” he questions him, persisting. “tell me harry! i need to know.” harry simply smiles at him and asks if he wants to hear another. “another.”

“john’s wife woke him up last night to tell him there was an intruder in their house.”

“then what happened?”

“well if you let me finish.”

“you take bloody forever to talk.” harry playfully swats his bicep and louis lets out a small chuckle and it is probably harry’s favorite sound. “tell me,” louis whispers.

“john’s wife was murdered by an intruder two years ago.”

“get out!” exclaims louis. “was it by the same intruder?”

“can’t answer that, and you look sleepy,” harry notes seeing his drooping chop suey eyes. “one more and we go to bed.”

louis looks up at him. “we?” he asks him. harry nods. louis shuffles closer to harry, the bigger boy drawing large circles in the middle of louis’ back. “tell me what john does this time.”

“the last thing john sees is his alarm clock flashing 12:07 before a woman pushes her long rotting nails through his chest. her other hand muffles his own screams. he bolts upright on the bed, relieved it is only a dream. but as he sees his alarm clock, it reads 12:06. he hears his closet door crack open.”

“no!” his voice muffles into harry’s shirt. “what happened to john, did he die?”

“nobody knows.”

silence falls in the attic, harry drawing circles on louis’ shoulders. harry thinks louis has fallen asleep but the occasional sniffs and silent sobs he knows louis is awake. then louis chokes a little and begins sobbing, each time louder than before. soon enough his shirt is soaked from the tears that it is sticking to his chest. he does not mind as he pulls louis closer to him, his arms holding him tighter.

not knowing what exactly to say he opts for silence and holding him tighter as if louis would break beneath his touch. he hazily plants a kiss on top on louis washed, mango-scented hair, and another and soon louis seems to have run out of tears. he leans down and softly wipes off the tears from his face with his thumb, before planting his lips to his forehead lingering for a few seconds.

“we don’t have to talk,” says harry. louis small eyes look up at his through his light eyelashes, full of sorrow harry’s insides shatter a little.

“i don’t…i’m not ready.”

“if john knows anything, it’s that you need sleep.” harry attempts at joking and he succeeds when louis grants him a smile, “not funny asshead.” louis shuffles near harry, tightening his legs around him underneath the covers.

his arm goes around harry’s waist, brushing harry’s arm, and he whispers, “thank you for coming.”

“anytime angel,” hums harry, before planting a kiss on the top of his head and louis is fast asleep on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so maybe i'm a little obsessed with manips and fanart... who iSN'T ?


	29. 0.28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tattoos and whatnot.

“you’re lying!” gigi exclaims. zayn is telling her the latest on niall and liam’s fight over the new girl, barbara palvin, in school and what each has done so far. harry, on the other hand, is slowing dying on the inside because really, nobody cares!

“i’m serious,” he says with an amused expression, “niall then took her to the london eye after that, and guess what liam did? he got her a spot in the upcoming london fashion week which really should’ve been the icing on the cake.”

“it should!” agrees gigi. she tucks her waist-length hair behind her pierced ears. “but barbara didn’t like it?” she guesses.

zayn nods. “right. so guess what now? not only does she have a spot in the fashion week, 2 bentley’s, a fooking all paid expense for a cabin in the woods that she doesn’t know who she is going to take.”

“obviously harry,” gigi says, swatting harry’s arm.

“please,” he snorts, his eyes not leaving his phone screen. “i wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole.”

“yeesh!”

“she fancies you mate,” zayn teases, “and i know the harry charm is somewhere in you. and please use it because honestly liam and niall need to stop fighting over her.”

“jealous?” smirks harry.

zayn scoffs. “over my dead body. if i wasn’t dating my girlfriend, she still wouldn’t be hot enough for me. it takes too much to touch her.”

“she’s a gold digger what do you expect? plus her ex was oscar!” reasons gigi. she places her hand on harry’s shoulder, adding, “of course, she wouldn’t make you work for her attention at all.”

zayn nods, adding, “and she’s been trying to get to you, you know.”

“i know,” groans harry, “she’s been sending me too many sexts, honestly it’s clogging up my phone, she calls me in the middle of the night i don’t pick up, sending me nudes on my instagram…”

“nudes?” asks zayn. “do you still have them?”

“no. deleted them.”

“why?”

“because she got no tits.” harry rolls his eyes. “and did i mention she isn’t that hot?”

“she’s gorgeous babe,” gigi protests, “she is fantastic and she’s got legs up to her neck.”

harry ignores her comment and his eyes immediately light up when louis walks into their english class and makes instant eye contact with him. his gaze does not wander from him as the adidas cladded lad walks down the small aisle between the desks and stops before harry’s. he digs his hands into his skinny jeans and pockets out bmw car keys and drops them in harry’s large hands.

“thanks mate,” louis tells him, “but no thanks. don’t need a car. i’ve got the train.”

zayn and gigi stop talking and turn their heads towards the keys in harry’s hands. zayn cannot believe his eyes, and gigi gapes at what louis is doing with wide eyes. harry on the other hand is at a loss of words, no one has ever _returned_ his gifts. well who would return his gifts though?

“you didn’t like it?” he asks weakly.

“i loved it, heck my entire family loved it,” laughs louis, “and they even begged me to keep it but i said no. it’s too much.”

“too much?” harry gasps at the boy wearing an adidas tank top. “how? it’s just a bwm x8!” he adds quietly, “plus i thought it would make you feel better after yesterday.”

“i don’t need money, expensive meals or sleek cars,” he says pointing to the keys in harry’s palm, “to win me over. you already have me.”

he winks and walks off to the back of the class and harry is speechless. gigi breaks the silence by asking if she could have the car. harry shrugs and throws her the keys and he slowly makes his way to louis. louis raises his gaze to harry and sighs.

“if you’re here to convince me to keep the car, i should tell you to turn around and walk back to where you came from styles.”

“i wasn’t tomlinson,” he smirks. he plops down on the seat near louis, and scotches even closer so their thighs are brushing each other. “but seriously, are you okay?”

“yeah, it’s really hard to process that she isn’t here anymore,” he tells him, memories of lottie flooding his head. “i just wish it wasn’t true and all this is a dream.”

harry gets off his chair, wraps his arms around louis standing behind him. louis sighs and leans into harry’s warm chest. “if you need anything, just ask,” harry murmurs into his neck. he squeezes his waist to show that he means what he says and louis nods against his shoulders.

“plus you said you’re a big believer in hugs so even if it’s just a hug, call me,” adds harry. louis spins on his chair, still in harry’s arm, and smiles up at him.

“you wore the black polka dot shirt?” he asks looking at harry’s shirt that is exposing his tanned chest. harry grins, nodding at the same time.

“someone thought it looks good on me!” he winks. he takes the seat near louis and takes one of louis’ legs between his and holds it there, a light color spreading across louis cheeks. he then adds, “though i couldn’t wear my black jeans so i wore white, to even it out.”

“look at you!” lols louis. his gaze absent mindedly falls to his leg between harry’s and then looks back up. “you should be the head of ysl already.”

“and you adidas. honestly, don’t you wear other brands?”

louis fake gasps. “go adidas or go home, asshead!” harry cackles, gaining a few heads turning to the back. “what quote did you steal that from?”

“the tommo quotes are always the best,” grins louis. “they all make sense and some, if not all, of the successful people in this world use my quotes as inspiration.”

“like what?” amused harry wonders. louis opens his mouth and then shuts it. “ha! i thought so.”

“you got a whale on your thigh with a caption ‘i whale you’ which is pretty lame,” snickers louis, and laughing at the man in white jeans who is secretly smiling as well.

“i whale you is genius comedy.”

“you make jokes?” laughs louis. harry crosses his arms before his chest and pouts. louis slowly stops laughing and uncrosses harry’s arms. “okay okay, i’m done joking. but you’ve never shown me the tat anyway.”

“show me yours i’ll show you mine.”

“cheeky,” smirks louis. “but i wear tank tops and fold my jeans at my ankles so you’ve seen like 80% of my tats. i can barely see yours.”

“it’s on my thigh,” he tells curious louis, and then points to a spot on his thigh that is dangerously close to his crotch. all the air in louis’ body vanishes and he cannot breathe. “it’s really big as well, and it’s not black like most people think.”

“what color?”

“dark blue,” smiles louis and he can tell harry is genuinely happy with something as simple as the color of a tattoo. “i need to see to believe,” louis tells harry before adding, “believing is seeing.”

“i don’t think that’s what jesus meant when he said that. plus isn’t it ‘seeing is believing’?”

louis does not budge as he is on a mission to see harry’s whale tattoo (and other things, but no one has to know). “believe to see!”

“come with me.”

louis gets up on his feet following harry out of the class, and to the boys’ bathroom down the hall. louis gets confused when harry enters a toilet stall but all he tells louis is that he does not want people walking in on him with his pants by his ankles. harry sits on the toilet seat before louis clocks the door behind him.

louis’ pulse is at an all-time high, his palms are sweating and his breathing uneven. his cool crumbles down when harry unbuckles and unzips his tight skinny jeans and louis thanks the stars that he is wearing a tank top or else he would be having huge sweat patches.

harry sits back down on the toilet seat with his jeans by his legs. “see, it’s dark blue.”

“it looks black to me,” louis says. his eyes wonder past the huge whale tattoo to his blessed crotch area then down to harry’s smooth milky thighs. without thinking, he utters, “you shave your thighs?”

“uh.” harry looks down at his thighs and back up at a blushing louis. “wax actually. i like it clean, generally. but i have nothing against hair, it’s just my personal choice.”

“no i get it. whales don’t have hair either.”

harry shakes his head amused nonetheless. “you’re unbelievable.” harry stands up to put back his pants when louis asks him if he has any other tattoos. “i have one written ‘brazil’.”

“can i see?” louis asks. harry nods before lifting his boxers slightly up and there it is, in all its glory: brasil. “why is the _s_ in capital?”

“i got brasil because that’s where vanessa is from and her middle name is sofia,” explains harry. louis nods. “i know it’s lame but it meant something to me at the time, and it’s now sort of a memory.”

“i get it! i have a tattoo reminding me of my grandmother of her house number, and another of eleanor which i should tattoo over, and i got one recently of lottie. so i get it, how you may think it means nothing but it does, it’s like our bodies become our diaries because the secrets cannot be closed up anymore.”

“harry?” someone asks and the two boys in the stall freeze. “harry you in there? zayn told me you came to the bathroom and i need a favor.”

“kind busy here.”

“blowjob?” asks the voice in the bathroom. louis lets out a laugh before he covers his mouth with his hand. “are you in there alone?”

“yes,” he answers. he abruptly pulls louis on his lap so that the voice would not see that harry is in fact not alone in the stall. “just busy crapping.” louis’ head falls onto harry’s shoulder, muffling his laughter on harry’s neck.

“tmi bro,” the voice tells him. “yo! i need a favor though.”

“what is it?” asks harry. his arms grip harder to louis’ thighs as the latter boy is trying hard in silencing his laughter.

“i need you to sorta tell barbara that i’m the man for her, not niall or liam, but me,” the voice says.

“fine.”

“really that’s it?” asks the voice, sounding a little surprised. “are you sure she would fancy me though?”

“of course, who wouldn’t fancy you?”

“barbara. she has the hots for you, and rumor has it zayn too,” the voice says. “i just want her to see me as the awesome man that i am. i’m much better than that oscar lad.”

“well i’m not interest in her and neither is zayn. plus you’re the captain of the hockey team, and you’re quite fit,” he tells him.

“you think so?”

“definitely,” smiles harry and winks at louis. “i’ll give her your number, don’t worry jonathan.”

“thanks bro,” jonathan thanks him before asking, “are you sure you’re alone in there? it sounds like there’s somebody in there. zayn swore you walked out of class with someone.”

harry and louis glance at each other, and louis’ mouth breaks into a smile, before letting out a tiny laughter. harry quickly muffles any more laughter with his palm. “zayn’s high.”

jonathan barks out a laugh. “fair point. see you at lunch!”


	30. 0.29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mckenize and harry fly to new york city....

mckenzie shuts the door to the hotel bathroom and harry takes that as his cue to pick up his ipad.

yesterday days ago, harry came downstairs to find his mother tapping insanely on her iphone which is not something new really, i mean when was she ever _not_ on her phone? the big deal was when she put her phone down and noticed her son walking into the kitchen for breakfast.

“we need to talk,” she had told him plainly that morning, “don’t sit because this won’t take long.” he nodded not trusting his voice. she pushed an envelope on the kitchen counter towards him and he opened the torn apart envelope. “that’s a rejection letter from harvard.”

harry took a deep gulp. this was definitely not a good thing considering that he is bound for harvard, or yale, but most likely harvard. it looks like those dreams are starting to be a distant past. see, the downside of being a spawn of wealth was that one had successful parents who expected nothing but greatness of their offspring so when a rejection from harvard comes in the mail, it is a war.

“can you explain this?” she asked, her tone filled with nothing but anger.

“i…i don’t know,” he meekly answered his mother. the words on the letter bounced off the paper before his eyes but all he could read was the word: rejection. rejection. it became an anthem for the few minutes he was with his mother (and the maids) in the kitchen. he finally set the paper down only to find his mother talking harshly at him.

the words too were bouncing off his ears and all he could think of was how horrible of a person he was. he was not smart enough, he was not good enough for an ivy, he was not good enough as a boyfriend, as a friend, he did not deserve to be here, he did not deserve to be alive!

in a bleak moment, he raced to the rooftop, his mind made up. to be fair who was he kidding? his sadness was spreading faster than cancer ever would and it was not going anywhere. his monsters were always learning to swim and he had a clock ticking, tick tock.

fortunately, or unfortunately, according to it depends on, he bumped into mckenzie on his way up. she had asked what was wrong and he said in one sentence his misery: rejected from harvard. she nodded her head, understanding and the next moments were all a blur for harry. mckenzie ordered for him to stay in the room, then the butler called requesting him to come downstairs, in the back of the car he was being driven to the airport and finally mckenzie said they are heading to harvard university.

he was boarded on a first class flight and therefore could not exactly protest against the idea. it was ridiculous, and mad, but it felt like déjà vu when he went to oxford university with louis.

_hello?_

“hi louis,” he smiles on the phone, “hope it’s not too late to call.”

_nah, it’s fine. it’s 3 here in london. how’s new york?_

“three?” gasps harry. “you should be asleep. goodnight angel.”

_don’t you dare hang up on me asshead! it doesn’t bother me. talk to me._

“okay,” harry says nodding. “we reached today at like 10 in the morning, slept throughout the afternoon before taylor called me,” he narrates. “i’m still sleepy.”

_damn. then go to bed then._

“can’t! new york is not a place for seeing during the day, but at night,” he says, “plus mckenzie is dragging me out. it’s not like we’re staying here for too long.”

_how long?_

“tomorrow we have a meeting with the dean, then leaving the next day so by thursday i should be back. what are you doing?”

_smoking a cig. i haven’t smoked all day and it feels so good to finally have a drag._

harry smiles. “isn’t marijuana better?”

_don’t like what it does to me._

“what do you mean?”

_there was once when i did smoke weed and it terrified me and i was paranoid the whole night. me best mate kept telling me that i was fine, it’s part of the feeling, but i didn’t want it. didn’t want to feel like that again so i stopped._

“it’s not that bad.”

_addict?_

“wait, can we facetime?” he asks him, getting an idea into his head. louis tells him yes and he hangs up the phone. 23 seconds later, louis’ face pops up on his ipad screen. he is outside, in a tank top and smoke floating in the air to the left of the screen.

“why are you outside?” is the first thing harry asks.

_give me a tour off the hotel, i want to see where the billionaire styles is staying at._

harry rolls his eyes. “m’not a billionaire. just a snobby asshead with a billionaire father.” he picks up the ipad and faces it away from him. occasionally, there are whistles, gasps, lots of “fooking hell” from louis as shows him around their presidential suite. he then places himself on the window pane, overlooking the nightlife of new york city.

_that’s fucking awesome!_

“it’s okay,” he shrugs. “is that your second cigarette?”

_third. i told you i haven’t smoked since this morning. look at that view!_

harry’s eyes dart to his left, looking at the bright lights. “it’s beautiful, isn’t it? choose the top floor just for the view.”

_when are you going to harvard?_

“tomorrow, hopefully i can talk to the dean and see if fooking taylor messed up anything to do with my applications to harvard,” he tells him. he holds the ipad down on his lap and with his other hand reaches for the glass of wine. “speaking of, she wanted to come with me.”

_what’s wrong with that?_

“she would fucking mess everything up. in case you didn’t know, the dean is her uncle,” he says and louis’ mouth opens wide. “right?”

_fooking shit!_

“so i couldn’t risk it, just promised her i’d text her every minute of the day. gosh, like everywhere i go she is there.”

_where are you and mckenzie going?_

“we’re meeting her sister who goes to nyu who’ll take us round,” he beams causing a smile to spread across louis’ face. “and speaking of, i need to get dressed by the time mckenzie gets out of the shower.”

_oi! i gotta take a piss._

“go to the bathroom, i’ll wait.”

_ha! no i’m not. i’m pissing on my neighbour’s flowers._

harry yells, “louis! don’t you dare! don’t do it!” just then he hears a zipper and then a water-like sound splash. “louis,” he shouts again in a whisper, “stop it.”

_can’t stop pee styles_

“move your dick around and piss somewhere else.”

_almost done._

“louis stop!”

_their fooking dog keeps barking as early as 4 in the morning waking me up so now it’s payback time._

“by pissing on your neighbour’s flowers?” he asks in disbelief. he hears louis zipping up his pants and once again, louis’ face is on his ipad screen. “wash your hands swine!”

_later._

_ _

“you’re unbelievable louis,” he says, secretly smiling and secretly loving to talk to louis.

_what’s that crap music playing?_

“that’s mckenzie’s playlist.”

_that’s lmfao._

“i know who they are,” harry snorts. louis sees past his lie and he laughs out loud. “i’m serious, i know who they are.”

_alright name some of their songs. or better yet, name this song._

“wiggle,” he confidently states and louis loses it. he laughs so loud, harry lowers the volume on his ipad.

_it’s called ‘sexy and i know it’ not whatever you said._

“go away,” harry blushes, “since you’re the all-knowing music guru, what are your requests?”

_i doubt you have my genre of music on your dear playlist._

“i don’t but maybe mckenzie does,” he says. he stretches to pick up a remote control, before picking his wine glass and taking several sips.

_the weekend._

“absolutely not,” harry shakes his head. he watches louis take a long drag of his cigarette before explaining himself, “i don’t like his music. next.”

_you’re such a bore. lana del rey._

harry presses a few buttons on the remote and through the speakers is lana’s _ultraviolence_ album. “see, i know music people.”

_they’re called musicians dork._

harry crosses his feet up on the window pane, placing his ipad on the edge wall of the window pane 20cm in front of him. louis, on his phone, has a view of harry from his forehead to a small view of the swallow tattoos on his toned chest. he rest his chin on his palm. “but i don’t like her either, how about i choose what to play?”

_impress me._

“how about…” he says and presses a button on the remote and beyoncé is heard through the speakers. louis shakes his head, placing his cigarette between his thin lips. “beyoncé is amazing and i love how she speaks up about women and the cruelty of what they go through.”

_i’m guessing you’re a feminist?_

harry nods enthusiastically. “i am! but i told niall about it once and he laughed in my face.”

_i’m not laughing at you love, i think it’s awesome that you do. i mean there are not many men out there who actually feel comfortable fighting for equal rights or even speaking about violence against women._

harry’s heart swells because louis could not be any more adorable at this moment. plus he just called him _love_. “i know right? but it’s not only women who face violence but men too.”

_touché._

harry suddenly was feeling like speaking some more, and more, and it was nice for once that somebody listened to him. “i’m proud to call myself a feminist because all over the world we have females of all types being oppressed and people are too dimwitted to see that just because the woman in your life, whether mother, sister, girlfriend or friend is not being oppressed then it is fine.”

_what’s your stance on feminism?_

“society spends so much time teaching ladies to worry about what men think of them. schools don’t teach boys to care about being likeable, but instead teach girls on not being too angry, aggressive, ambitious, touch and if this isn’t enough and stupid, we praise men who are all of these things because they are ‘real men.’”

louis remains silent, occasionally smoke drawn through his lips and nostril as he listens to harry. “it’s not just in school but all over, like in magazines, that tell women what to do to get that man, how to be when with a man, or not to be, or even how to attract that special man you’ve been eyeing.

“the worst part comes when women’s appearance are picked on so much. there is so much pressure to be perfect, so much so her worth is determined by her clothes.”

_what do you mean?_

“when a lady wears tops that does not show her chest, flat shoes, or low heels, and skirts beyond her knees she is suddenly a prude, old fashioned, or a bore,” explains harry. “but short skirts, high heels and v-neck tops are all signs that she is a whore, slut or was asking for it. what’s more is that society tells women they should ‘cover up’ because it’s the right thing to do and hell no! why should she? she is not a mistake because it’s only mistakes and failures that are covered up.

_all the while it’s fine to watch old, wrinkly men on the beach with ugly swimsuit bottoms._

“exactly!” exclaims harry, and louis laughs along with harry. “or when society says ‘leave something to the imagination’ like the what the actual fuck? a lady’s body is not your wonderland and society’s problem is the reality of a woman’s body because they can’t imagine it flawless, no scars, no scabby shins, or even love handles. they instead picture her as someone with a big butt and huge breasts because that’s apparently ideal.”

_women’s bodies are not objects and nor are their clothing. you can’t summarize their personality based on it just like you can’t hold a book, look at the cover, and tell someone the whole story._

harry nods, completely agreeing with louis. “a lady is a nation of libraries, not just a damn book you picked because it was pretty and shiny.”

mckenzie emerges out of the bathroom in her birthday suit to find harry on the window pane talking to his ipad. “are you kidding me? my sister will be here in a few minutes and you aren’t dressed?” she gawks at him.

“i’m talking to louis.”

“talk and dress at the same time, she’ll be in the lobby in five,” says mckenzie slamming the door to her room. harry’s eyes move down to gaze at louis who is probably on his fourth cigarette.

_get off the window and get dressed._

“stay on?”

_not going anywhere._

harry smiles getting off the window pane, carrying the ipad, and heading to his room. he places the ipad on top of the table that has the view of the entire bedroom. harry heads to his suitcase and throws all his clothes on the bed.

_what will you wear? flowery shirts from gucci?_

“you underestimate me sometimes tomlinson.”

_is that so styles?_

in a quick minute, harry is donned in a ysl button up, ripped skinny jeans and boots. he walks towards the ipad so that louis can take a proper look.

_change the shoes._

“to what?” asks harry. louis points to something behind him and he sees they are vans, red, checked vans to be specific. “absolutely not.”

_trust me on this. those boots of yours should be banned. and is that britney spears playing?_

“yeah,” he giggles, “i miss her to be honest.” louis snorts, rolling his eyes.

_you sound as if you knew her personally._

“shut up!” he grins. he quickly changes into the vans that he has no doubt mckenzie packed for him. “louis don’t you dare take another cigarette. you’ve smoked six already and that’s far too many for even a chain smoker.”

_not really. i haven’t smoked all day._

“i know angel but please, don’t smoke another one,” he asks and louis huffs putting his non-lit cigarette bag into its dunhill packet. “thank you,” whispers harry, but louis simply rolls his eyes.

_unbutton your shirt asshead. for goodness sake you’re going out not for a conference call._

“i need to look professional.”

_for what? who? who are you meeting?_

“no one really,” he shrugs. louis raises an eyebrow, not believing a word, and harry gives in. he unbuttons four of his buttons on his indigo, lace shirt, and then sprays himself with tom ford.

_that’s too much. i can smell you through the screen._

“he’s right you know,” mckenzie speaks making her way through to his bedroom.

“you look gorgeous love,” harry smiles gazing down at her dark blue, lace dress and her stunning, black heels.

“thanks babe,” she smiles from eye to eye. “now c’mon let’s go.”

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow after i go to harvard or if not i’ll see you on thursday.”

_i believe in you harry. i know you’ll get it. and have fun tonight._

before harry replies, mckenzie walks into the room again, slightly irritated harry is still not ready (he has not combed his hair or brushed his teeth). she grabs his ipad amidst protest and laughter from louis and chases him to the bathroom.

“thank you louis,” she says to the ipad screen. “i don’t what i’d have done without you. i think he would’ve have proper jumped this time.”

_no problem. i’m happy you called. and remember, don’t leave him alone in the room with the dean or else he won’t go through with it. if you’re there, it’s okay._

“are you sure?” she asks with worry.

_one hundred percent. he just needs someone to believe in him._

okay i’m good,” she says, sounding confident. harry emerges out of the bathroom, finally ready to go out into the nightlife of new york. “let’s go,” she tells harry.

“not before i tell him goodnight,” he says and mckenzie rolls her eyes.

_you two act like such siblings._

“she’s the all-time annoying sister,” he says earning a hit from mckenzie on his back. “it’s what, almost four in the morning, now go to bed.”

_i want to stay out here longer, there’s some comfort with the night._

“go to bed!”

_no._

“louis!”

_harry._

“now,” he says sternly, and adds softly, “please.” louis rolls his eyes and harry smiles, having won.

_whatever._

“i’m not leaving this room till you get into bed,” harry tells him, a determined look on his face. louis rolls his eyes, and makes his way inside the house, and finally into bed, throwing the covers over his body.

_happy?_

“very,” smiles harry. “sweet dreams angel.”

_have fun asshead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you post ONE photo, and the addiction begins |:


	31. 0.30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry hosts a party at his mansion for getting into harvard university.

mckenzie opens the door to harry’s mansion, donned in a pink polka dot bikini, to find louis and liam standing before them on a fine friday late afternoon – liam donned in swim shorts and louis in normal clothes. she greets them happily, hugging each, welcoming them inside the mansion and walking straight to the back of the house where there is a small get together. rather, a party in the making.

everyone is here to celebrate harry’s acceptance into harvard university and really, it is just another excuse to drink, snort, smoke, inject, and use harry’s father’s cars to race around the front of his mansion and his large, green backyard.

“louis, liam will catch up with you,” mckenzie says and louis nods, disappearing into the back. she then turns to liam, two shots of vodka in her hand. “plan one get louis into the party, check.”

“hear hear!” cheers liam and they simultaneously drown their drinks. “now for plan two, get taylor and niall out.” liam gives her a once-over. “you look gorgeous in that bikini.”

“thanks babe,” mckenzie glees. “is this really going to work?”

“i don’t care but whatever to get larry together, i want in,” liam says. just then zayn walks in the kitchen with dark, red swim shorts and shoots a suspicious glare at both of them. mckenzie excuses herself as zayn pours himself a drink. “hey zayn,” he greets.

“since when are you and mckenzie close?”

“since forever,” liam winks.

“you hate her as much as you hate taylor,” zayn points out.

“we found a common enemy that we both want gone,” liam says, trying to remain aloof about the whole situation. “if you don’t mind, you’re boring me now.”

zayn frowns at retreating liam’s body walking out onto the pool. something is not adding up. ever since he can remember, liam and mckenzie do not like each other, in fact they cannot stand each other, if you were to put them both in a room together, all that would be left is blood.

sure zayn did not care much for anyone but with harry recently helping him with his cocaine issue of his coke going missing and his drug dealers being on his back about not paying them, harry stepped in and paid them in double just to make sure they would not come back to bother zayn. since then, he feels like he owes harry, not in the blackmailing way that one owes taylor but in a clean manner.

first, he follows liam’s to where the party is at and sees him chatting up with harry, niall, and taylor that looks quite engaging: niall and taylor are laughing their heads off, liam is smiling and harry is, as always, rolling his eyes and drinking a little too much. thank goodness for gigi getting a tan by the pool because now he can listen in on the conversation.

“hey boyfriend,” she greets planting a kiss on his lips.

“what’s up with k and liam?”

she lays back down to get a tan, already bored with whatever conversation zayn is trying to engage her with. “i don’t know.”

second, niall is walking away from the trio and making his way to the new girl, barbara who turns out is into niall. since when? he wonders to himself because last he checked, barbara only had eyes for harry styles. things change, he shrugs.

“drink, sir?” zayn looks up from his seat to see a bartender holding a tray of champagne. he takes a glass and the bartender moves on to the next girl in a bikini.

next, zayn notices niall and barbara whispering in each other’s ears, niall’s hands raking up and down her bare back and soon enough they are heading into the mansion. surprisingly liam and taylor are following them which is odd to zayn because, again, since when are they friends?! he turns around trying to spot where harry is and he spots him talking to mckenzie in hushed tones. he gets on his feet and hurries to follow the four people to where they are heading to.

back at the pool, mckenzie receives a text from liam stating that niall and taylor are heading back chuck bass’ party at his father’s hotel and plan three is now in motion. she sets her phone down and drags harry away from the pool and into the kitchen.

“you dragged me back for a shot?” questions harry as mckenzie shoves a shot glass into his large hands.

“drink up!”

“why?” he asks. “i’m already buzzed enough. plus i was working on my tan.”

“guess who’s here?” she asks after gulping down her shot. harry remains silent. she takes his shot gulping it down quickly. “louis!” his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his mouth forms a small ‘o’.

“where is he?” he asks. mckenzie motions her head indicating to follow her. without their knowledge, zayn is listening in on the conversation and also follows them towards where they are heading to. he had missed liam, barbara, niall and taylor by a whisker as they quickly got into a car and raced off.

finally, in another room, zayn watches harry and mckenzie make their way into one of harry’s large “party” rooms where another crowed has formed, probably the crowed that did not fancy swimming but would rather still come to harry’s party (who wouldn’t?).

zayn feels a finger brush up and down his arm and he turns his head so quick he hears a small crack. it is just kendall, ugh. “what do you want kendall?”

“i don’t see gigi anywhere,” she says, her lips close to zayn’s ear. “i say you and i go have some fun.”

“i’m busy.”

“you’re eyeing mckenzie really hard,” she says as her grip on zayn’s arm now tight. “you know she does not look at you that way. her best friend is gigi and therefore would never do anything with you but i wouldn’t hesitate.”

“no.”

“why not?”

“i have a girlfriend.”

“that’s never stopped you before.”

“it’s different now.”

“how about a blowjob?” she asks palming his swimsuit shorts. his chokes on air at the contact and pushes her slightly and walks away. he walks into the room in time to see harry hugging who he presumes is louis and his eyes bulge out of their place. since when does harry hug anyone? and taylor does not count? he barely hugs mckenzie, or liam, yet here he is hugging some guy he probably does not even know for what is now, _a billion seconds?_

now zayn is more than ever determined to figure out what the hell is going on in his friends’ lives. he knows nothing much about harry, with niall it is all same old with his obvious crush on taylor and his hate for harry because he is the one dating his crush, liam nothing new apart from his new friendship with taylor and mckenzie and him, stuck on the outside.

“what do you think you’re up to?” asks mckenzie snapping him out of his thoughts.

“nothing. why?”

she crosses her hands in front of her chest. “you’ve been eyeing me ever since liam and his friend got here, so you’re up to something.”

“i don’t know what you’re on about mckenzie,” he says nonchalantly. his eyes look up to see harry following louis upstairs and he sighs, he has to get rid of mckenzie in order to know what exactly is up with _those two_. i mean it is pretty obvious but he sure as hell did not take harry as a cheater, maybe niall, liam, heck even him – at times, but never harry.

 

back upstairs, louis bounces on harry’s bed and soon after he feels a dip next to him.

“if i didn’t know any better i’d say you wanted to bring me up here,” louis says winking at a blushing harry.

“you wish,” harry laughs.

“and what are those hideous yellow swim shorts?” asks louis, pointing at harry’s crotch area.

“what horrible tank top are you wearing?” harry hits back smirking. his smirk grows, showing teeth that louis loves because he gets to admire his dimples. his eyes drop down to harry’s bare, tanned abs and it takes all of him not to rake his finger tips down his long torso.

“my eyes are up here!”

“your bloody shorts are too yellow,” he says and blushes on having been caught staring. swiftly, harry’s large hands pull louis onto his lap and the boy in a tank top releases a breath he did not know he has been holding.

“now you can’t see my shorts,” mumbles harry. louis eyes burn down harry’s chest and his breath becomes heavy. “you know if you want to touch my tattoos you can.” louis can hear the smirk on harry’s lips but takes the invitation.

“tell me about each one.”

“which one?” louis arm wraps around harry’s neck and with the other one, his finger pokes harry’s butterfly tattoo. “butterflies in my stomach.”

“really?”

“no,” he laughs. “my sister loves butterflies.”

“seriously?”

“yeah.”

“this one,” louis pokes at a handshake. harry looks down then back at up louis’ gaze. as he explains the tattoo represents what his and taylor’s relationship feels like, his hands lift louis’ shirt slowly, his thumb grazing louis soft skin on his hip. louis points at another tattoo.

“it was a bet with niall, and i lost, so i got a tattoo of a mermaid.”

“did it have to be naked?” he wonders.

“niall’s instructions plus i was high off coke and ever since i stopped because i didn’t want dumb tattoos on me,” he says, chuckling a little. “again.”

louis then points at another, harry explains what it means, but in between the low voices and heavy breathes, louis’ mind is spinning what with harry’s hands grazing on his hips and his warm breath on his collarbone.

he loses it when harry’s lips touch the skin along his collarbones. he bucks forward pressing their chests together and his grip around harry’s neck tightens, his thumb pressed tightly on the bone behind harry’s ear. his other hand nails lightly trail down from his shoulder and stop halfway down his arm as harry’s lips nip at the skin, lightly at first then harder the next time.

louis lets out a low half-sigh, half-moan, his breath hitting harry’s ear and his fingers digging into harry’s shoulder. he can feel harry’s teeth nibbling onto his bone, then sucking on the skins and back again at his bone.

“fook,” he breathes deeply. harry’s plants a kiss before looking back at the size-of-australia love bite on louis’ shoulder. his thin pink lips open slightly as his gaze drops to harry’s plump lips then back to his eyes. the boy in yellow swim shorts bucks his head up, traveling his hands up louis’ back while the lad in a tank top grazes his thumbs against harry’s cheekbones.

gently, harry pulls louis down with him so now louis is hovering above harry, his knees slightly squeezing harry’s middle. their foreheads bump, their mouths exchanging husky, lusty breathes and it is taking all of harry not to kiss louis right there and then. his intoxicating smell of lemon with faint cigarettes is driving him up the wall and not to forget the hands all over his face and neck and he thinks he is going to cum right now. but he is waiting, waiting for the adidas lover to do _something_.

to say he has been thinking about this moment for as long as he can remember would be correct. in school, he thinks about his rosy lips on his own, in the shower he thinks of louis lips wrapped around his co.ck, bopping his head, and recently when he is having sexing with taylor he gets flashes of blue eyes and it takes all of his being not to moan louis’ name.

it is too much for harry and he orders eagerly, “kiss me tomlinson.”

zayn barges into the room, gaping at the sight in front of him. “what the actual fook?” the two boys on the bed freeze; louis gets off harry and the latter twists on the bed onto his stomach to see looking zayn flabbergasted.

“what now?” groans harry. “if someone puked then tell the maids to clean it up!”

“so you two are a thing?” he spits pointing at the bed. “honestly harry i thought you were better than the rest of us but here you are fooking this fag on your bed! is this why niall and tay left the party, to get rid of your girlfriend?”

“taylor left?” asks harry, oblivious to what mckenzie and liam had been up to.

“what are k and liam up to?”

“how should i know?” he tells zayn, sighing loudly, “and close the door behind you.”

“this isn’t right,” he says pointing straight at louis with his index finger.

“oi!” exclaims louis.

zayn continues speaking but is cut off when he sees harry already standing before him to have the door slammed in his face. harry turns around to see louis standing beside the bed mumbling something underneath his breathe.

“don’t leave.”

louis looks up. “if you change into some pants and a shirt i won’t.” the glow on harry’s face is radiant and he immediately goes into his walk-in closet to dress into something comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry in SHORTS is always a blesssssssssssing.


	32. 0.31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chuck bass hosts a charity gala to raise money for black hairy tongue disease.

“we’re the lucky ones harry,” taylor whispers in her dapper boyfriend’s ear. “we’re the chosen ones and don’t you ever forget that.”

harry rolls his eyes and places his glass of champagne down on the dinner table. chuck bass is hosting a charity gala for those with black hairy tongue disease who are in dire need of medicine and vaccines. not only are the spawns of wealth invited who are of course harry, taylor, liam, niall, mckenzie and many others. what about zayn? due to his father’s recent financial crisis, the malik family is not invited to the charity gala.

at harry’s table is harry seated with taylor, to his left, and on his right is his mother and to taylor’s left is the infamous fixer, daddy taylor, and his wife. it has been four hours already and harry is bored off his mind by this gala. so far nothing has gone great for him: it started with taylor’s and his parents talking about how their kids will go to harvard together, working their way up to getting a doctorate, next they would buy a house somewhere in the suburbs of london working to be at the top of the league in their respective careers and finally, growing old together with their two children, one boy and one girl.

it did not help matters when taylor’s mother had been wearing the traditional sapphire ring that has been passed down from generation to generation in daddy taylor’s family line and soon it would be on taylor’s finger, as harry will be proposing to taylor after graduation.

“i can’t get enough of the ring!” gushes harry’s mother, anne. “it’s gorgeous.”

“i know,” agrees taylor, showing off the ring to everyone at the table. she then turns to harry, glitter in her shimmering eyes (and eye shadow). “isn’t it just precious? our future is in our hands already.”

harry gulps. he takes a huge gulp of his champagne then excuses himself to get a drink. he ignores the evil glares from his mother and heads towards liam’s table which seems to be less heavy than his.

“mr styles, always a pleasure,” liam’s father gushes shaking his hand.

“it always is,” smiles harry sitting to liam’s right. “how’s the navy?”

“all good, all good, we’re getting new technology from the british intelligence equipment next week so we’re going to have fun next week.”

“be careful darling,” warns liam’s mother.

“you know liam’s father and his new toys,” niall says, “can never stop him even if it has ‘danger’ written all over it.”

liam’s father raises his glass of wine to niall’s comment as harry drowns his wine glass in seconds. liam takes away the wine glass harry’s hand is reaching to touch and instead replaces with a glass of water.

“are you the drunk police?” questions niall.

“yeah liam, we’re at a party so stop being an ass.”

“you’re already drunk!”

“just buzzed that’s all,” harry defends himself. “not drunk. but i’m soon heading there.”

“where’re we going tonight?” asks niall to liam and harry. “this place is a bore.”

“i heard cheers from your table,” says liam, “what was that about?”

“i think i got engaged to taylor but i’m not sure,” mumbles harry. he swiftly takes niall’s half-full glass of wine and drowns it in seconds. he tells them about the ring that has passed down in many family generations in daddy taylor’s line and finally it will be given to harry who will propose to taylor once they both graduate high school in almost 413 days.

“is that the sapphire ring?” asks niall. harry nods. “my future is basically written for me and i have no say in it. let’s drink to our terrible yet blessed lives.”

harry clinks his glass with niall and they drink up. liam rolls his eyes because this is not going to end well, it never does when harry drinks, and drinks, all the while niall encouraging his drinking. he has never understood why when harry drinks he is best mates with niall and they get along so well you would be mistaken to think they are best pals but once both of them are sober they cannot stand each other.

he gets off his chair and walks outside to follow niall and harry, before checking harry’s table and finding all of them laughing with each other not noticing the empty chair in their circular table. he finds harry and niall trying to break into a lamborghini, rather niall is breaking into it as harry drowns a champagne bottle.

he stomps towards them, grumpily shouting, “what do you think you’re doing niall? that’s not your car.”

“the fun police is here,” he sarcastically mutters and harry laughs out loud. “we’re in.”

harry cheers loudly, and walks to the other side of the car to slip into the passenger seat. he pokes his head out calling for liam to get into the car. he shifts from one leg to another, debating whether to get into the car or not. he thinks of the other times this has happened and almost 99% it did not end well; once, they crashed harry’s father’s jaguar, second, they were caught by the police for underage driving, the third was because of drunk driving, and recently they knocked someone out on the road and they kept driving because who would want to go to jail for a hit and run?

liam being liam, did find out who it was they knocked down and it was henry marge, a father of three, who had been going to visit his wife who was in hospital for a broken arm and leg. he felt so guilty he anonymously paid for the hospital bill, including his wife’s as well.

he takes a deep sigh and seats in the back as niall furiously roars the lamborghini out of chuck bass’ charity gala for black hairy tongue disease. during the time niall is driving, harry is mindlessly drinking from the champagne bottle and looking outside the window, liam is holding onto the seatbelt for his life while watching the speed rise from 30km/h to 110 km/h to 170km/h to 220km/h and he cannot take it anymore he shuts his eyes.

he takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again and purposely looks at the road in front of him. he does not want to look at how fast niall is driving, how he let niall drive while he is tipsy, and most importantly, trying to see where niall is driving to. his question is answered when niall stops the lambo in front of zayn’s house (he lets out a deep sigh, finally, the lambo is not carelessly zooming down the road).

“what are we doing here?” harry asks. nobody answers and it is not like he wanted an answer anyway. he hopes whatever niall is doing here won’t take long because he wants to get back on the road and feel the world pass by before his eyes. minutes later, zayn and niall are walking down his house and zayn gets into the back with liam.

“where we headed?” asks zayn.

“anywhere but here,” harry answers indifferently.

“skate park,” recommends zayn and the car remains silent. niall takes that as a yes and off they go to the skate park in the stolen lambo. once they all get out of the car, they find the skate park is quite full but they find a spot that is not being used which they sit at in a mini circle.

as zayn passes the blunt round the circle to his left, he receives the bottle of champagne from his right and it continues, in silence, each of the four boys lost in their own thoughts. until zayn speaks up.

“are you and harry friends now?” asks zayn to niall. “can we stop the intervention liam and i have been planning?”

“something’s are irreversible zayn,” says harry. he takes the blunt from liam and passes it straight to niall without taking a drag. “can’t be fixed.”

niall simply shrugs taking a long drag. “i’m tired of apologizing for what i did.”

“it’s obvious you love taylor,” liam tells him straight, “and you’ll never stop loving her but technically she is going to end up with harry for the rest of her life.”

“everybody ends up with harry,” grumbles niall. “first it was kendall, then brittany, then taylor, then that stupid green-eyed girl, and remember the girl who everybody wanted when we were in freshmen year? all she wanted was harry motherfucking styles.

“and then what happens to the rest of us? we get his sloppy seconds like we’re second choices in this damn school of ours. it’s not fair because the rest of the boys are good enough, we are all good enough but it’s sad when you finally get a girl you like, sweet and a little bitchy, but all she does is sleep with you to get to harry.”

“i don’t know why you’re mad at me,” questions harry, “it’s not like i say yes to all these girls. pick one and actually wine and dine them niall instead of fooking them.”

“if you think the issue is you being first choice then you’re completely wrong harry!”

“calm down niall!” says zayn, passing him the champagne bottle.

“i know about harvard, niall,” says harry, “i know you and taylor told the dean to not accept me. oxford too. i have to fix your mess because of something you’re bitter about.”

“you don’t bloody get it mate,” screams niall, “taylor was meant to be mine. i was meant to be sitting at the table with her tonight. i was meant to be given the sapphire ring by daddy taylor so that _i_ will propose to her on graduation but no, you came along and took her away from me because you’re the charming, charmer styles. she was mine first.”

“i keep apologizing for it but it wasn’t my fault that she fell in love with me,” harry defends himself. “i didn’t ask her to fall in love with me.”

“you could’ve stopped her, you could’ve told her that.”

“you don’t just tell someone who they fall in love with,” murmurs liam. “it just happens. it’s inevitable.”

niall is unfazed and continues with his angry rant, a little tipsy. “and i won’t stop until you feel what i feel every single day.”

“what do you plan on doing?” asks zayn.

“i hear louis is quite a chap,” an evil grin spreads across niall’s lips. harry’s interest perks and he turns to gaze at niall. “i don’t know what’s going on between you two, or what is supposed to be happening but it won’t happen. you’re not going to pursue this louis guy while you’re getting married to taylor, you will not hurt her.”

“i’m not pursuing louis,” defends harry. “we’re just friends.”

“friends,” niall scoffs. “i’ve that one before. remember julius?”

“what a guy he was,” smiles zayn remembering julius. julius was a fling for harry, an experimental object and nothing more. sadly, julius fell for harry hard but harry flung him out of his life and did not look back. “you were an asshole to him. it looks like louis will be julius 2.0.”

“it’s not. it’s different this time.”

niall snorts. “heard that one before too. you get a boy toy to release your gay, sexual energy and throw him out like old kleenex and get back with taylor.”

“you know what your problem is niall?” asks harry rhetorically. “your mistake was loving tay when she didn’t know what love was. you fell in love with the idea of love, loving the idea of who she is, loving her more and more, imagining what she is like; she looks at you with bored, snobby eyes and you think she’s just tired in the mornings, you used to hold her like a delicate flower while she dropped you like glass yet you stayed, loved her even more. that was your mistake and that’s your mistake with all these women.”

niall grunts furiously, “fook you styles!”

“you don’t love someone for who they are but the idea you have in your thick rich head, so when this girl shows her real side, or does not play with your fantasies then you stop and move onto the next one.”

“shit!” whistles liam. “he’s right mate, you do do that to the girls in school.”

“it doesn’t matter harry because you know what, you’ll never be good enough for your father,” mocks niall. he smirks because he knows he has hit a nerve inside him. harry’s face falls, his gaze falling to his lap. “you’ll always be trying this, doing that, working yourself silly just to get a look from him that says he is proud of you but 19 years later, he still has never seen you as his proper son.”

harry slowly gets up, leaving the champagne bottle on the ground, and walks away from the three boys. liam calls after him, niall laughs silently and zayn rolls another blunt. he stops before the lambo and debates whether he should enter it and drive to an unknown destination but then he wonders how liam will get home. he walks away, pressing his phone to his ear.

_hello?_

a smile crawls up on his face. “hi louis, hope i didn’t wake you.”

_nah, it’s movie night._

“what are you watching?”

_some terrible movie about some lad named george who goes to serbia to look for polar bears._

“sounds like something you’d pick to watch.”

_i would not! i pick sick movies. where are you though? are you outside?_

“yeah, i’m at the skate park.”

_harry styles can skateboard? honestly you never fail to surprise me._

harry snorts. “you’d never catch me dead skateboarding tomlinson. we drove here in a stolen lambo to get away from chuck’s charity gala.”

_are you alright?_

“got into a fight with the boys,” he says then corrects himself, “well just niall.”

_did you drive there drunk?_

“i didn’t. niall drove.”

_stay there. i’m coming to get you._

“no,” harry tells him firmly. “i’m fine. i just needed a breather. i’m fine.”

_10 minutes._

“louis!”

_be careful._

“louis!” he calls out again but the line goes dead. he leans against the rail, watching the few people at the skate park at 8 in the evening rolling their skateboards up and down the ramps. he is lost in watching them that he does not see louis walking up to him. the smaller boy wraps his arms around harry’s middle and immediately a smile spreads across his face.

“you didn’t have to come,” he says after hugging louis back.

“it doesn’t bother me asshead, i was happy to.”

“thank you,” he mumbles.

“now c’mon, i was in the middle of a very boring movie that i now have to finish,” says louis, pulling harry’s arm. “i wanna know if he finds the polar bears.” harry only laughs and 23 minutes later he is inside louis’ warm house, seated between louis and fizzy. johannah walks into the room, surprised at harry’s presence.

“it’s been long since we’ve seen you,” she says happily, “here i thought you left us.”

“i’d never,” he laughs charmingly.

“you better not,” she says to him with a hint of seriousness. “this one cannot stop talking about you.”

“mama!” whines louis. “it’s not true.”

“is too,” seconds daniel, louis’ stepfather. fizzy nods, as well as the twins. louis buries his head in embarrassment in the crook of harry’s neck. he feels the vibrations off his body as harry laughs along with the tomlinson family.

some minutes to midnight, johannah commands everyone in the room to head to bed, seeing as almost everyone’s eyes were either closed or struggling to stay open. louis slowly gets off the couch, making sure not to disturb harry who has long fallen asleep. he picks up fizzy off the couch and carries her bridal style to bed, as daniel takes the twins and johannah clears up the mess in the living room.

heading downstairs, louis’ phone buzzes from his back pocket to read a text from liam worrying about not finding harry.

 **LOUIS:** Don’t worry. He called me and I picked him up. What happened?

 **LIAM:** Thank goodness! I can finally sleep. Will explain tomorrow. Can he spend the night at yours?

 **LOUIS:** You’re worrying me now.

 **LIAM:** Goodnight mate :]

he sighs pocketing his phone and heads to the living room. he kneels before harry on the couch and a faint pink color spreads across his cheeks. harry looks peaceful sleeping, his mouth slightly open, his eyelashes resting delicately on his skin and his chest moving so light he wonders if the boy is real. he pats his shoulder, calling harry out to wake up. the younger boy grumbles, his mouth in a pout, and shakes off louis’ palm off his shoulder.

“you can’t sleep on the couch,” says louis softly. harry blinks his eyes open. “c’mon, i promise you’re going to sleep just not here.”

“what about you?”

“i meant we,” he chuckles. harry gets up and drags himself up the stairs, before wishing mama johannah goodnight, and louis closes the door behind them. louis turns around to find harry is fast asleep on his bed, his feet hanging off.

he takes off harry’s shoes, small whimpers escaping the sleep boy’s lips, then he sits him up so as to take off his shirt. “arms,” louis instructs. harry’s sleepy eyes look up at louis, his large hands in the air, and the latter boy coos at the sight because harry just looks _so adorable_.

he too strips down to his boxers and wears his superman pjs and gets into bed. harry shuffles closer to him, throwing his arm around his middle. “even your sheets smell like lemon. and cigarettes.”

“shut it asshead,” louis tells him jokingly. “is everything okay?”

“today went horribly wrong,” mumbles harry quietly against his skin. “i hate my life and i feel like i don’t have control over it. i don’t deserve to be here.”

louis turns in his bed and showers him with kisses all over his face, his nose, his cheeks, the spot near his ears and do not forget the chin. with each kiss, louis tells him how he believes in harry, to not think about the rubbish he is thinking of and the world is a better place with him in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly LOL what even is black hairy tongue disease? sometimes scream queens is mental hahaha


	33. 0.32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry plans on purchasing lady marie-antoinette, yet meets hurdles along the way....

how a horse can be called lady marie-antoinette is beyond harry but yet here he is, in tow with his mother, zayn, and mckenzie, at the horse show in edinburg to buy the horse as requested by anne.

anne is a huge horse lover, but dr styles is an even bigger horse lover so much so that he has bought a dozen thorough breds in the last quarter of the year. so as a surprise for dr styles’ upcoming birthday, anne thinks it is a good idea to buy another horse to add to dr styles’ collection and now that the world’s most wanted horse, lady marie-antoinette, is finally on sale because the original owners do not want it want more, the styles’ family have made it their mission to get the horse.

harry grabs a glass of champagne being passed around by the busboy and takes a sip, half listening to what his mother and mckenzie are talking about (who knew she was a horse lover!) and he looks to zayn to see him watching the horses running in the field with their owners.

“the air is beautiful here!” gushes anne taking a gaze around the area filled with spawns of the wealthy and horse lovers walking around with at least something brown in their attire. it must be the dress code, harry thinks.

“smells like horse shit,” grumbles harry into his glass. zayn rolls his eyes and his mother shoots him a glance.

“remember we are here to buy lady marie-antoinette,” says anne to harry, “and we need that horse for your father more than anything.”

“i get it,” groans harry finishing his champagne. “zayn and i will go that way to see if she is racing.”

zayn is dragged by harry towards the place that the horses are competing against each other. they squeeze their way through and finally are front row behind the wooden barracks.

“what’s with you and horses anyhow?” harry asks after looking the horses running in the field under the sun.

“i don’t know,” he answers, mesmerized by a white horse gulping down the track. “they’re beautiful i guess.”

harry sighs, closing his eyes and his mind is flooded immediately with niall’s threats from last night. niall to some extent was right about julius – his _whatever_ _that was to him._ he blushes at the memory of what him and julius did together, always but unfortunately, he had not known he was gay, heck, even into _men_ yet he had so much fun, so much more fun than he ever did with taylor, or his exes (apart from vanessa).

he opens his eyes spots lady marie-antoinette racing down the track with another black horse by the name of lady alexandria. what he knows right now is that louis is not the same thing that julius was to him, louis is so much better than julius ever was, for one julius was as interesting as watching paint dry. louis is his great friend who is filled with compassion, care, jokes, a little bit of insanity and he believes in harry more than anyone ever does in his life.

louis makes him feel included, not thrown to the side like last season’s ysl boots. he does not make him feel small, or like he is never good enough because louis believes in him, cares for him. harry knows louis cares for him in the little things he does such as kissing him along his jawline spontaneously, hugging him at random times as well, calling him nicknames like “sunshine”, “curly” (his hair is not even that curly), or his favorite “baby cheeks”, not judging him when he talks passionately about women’s rights, or his ambition of being a baker in the future and as his main career as an environmental lawyer, and not forgetting his goodnight texts which make him blush deep into the night. or masturbate.

however, the biggest thing he is sure he knows that louis is definitely not like julius is the fact that he has not been to the rooftop in a long time, he has not felt the need to jump. not yet anyway. finally, louis, in more ways than one, and most definitely more than anyone in his life, has shown that he cares for him and removed all doubts that louis will walk out of his life when they feel like without a goodbye or some sort. louis makes the effort when nobody else does.

“what are you thinking so hard about?” zayn asks seeing the intensity all over his face.

“that niall is wrong,” he tells him honestly. zayn says nothing and half nods to himself. just then lady marie-antoinette gets off the tracks and is led to the stables by her rider. zayn and harry follow the horse behind all the way to where she is locked in the stables behind a small door so her head can stick out.

“hello love,” harry greets charmingly, “you must be princess jasmine, father of al-khalifa?”

“yes, that’s me,” she nods, a deep arabic accent complimenting her smooth, silky hair. “and you are?”

“i’m harry styles,” he introduces himself, as well as zayn, shaking her hand. “and this is my friend zayn malik.”

“from the malik family?” asks princess jasmine. zayn smiles, half-nodding. “i do know you. my great-grandfather worked with your grandfather in the oil business for years and despite the conflict that has happened recently with our families, we are still good friends.”

“yes, yes we are and always will be but we are not here to mend amends for our fathers’ relationships but here for your horse, lady marie-antoinette.”

“oh?” she inquires.

harry nods. “we are here to buy her.”

“oh,” she says, and pauses. she darts her eyes between them both. “lady marie-antoinette was bought two hours ago by the horan family.”

“horan?” asks harry, “as in the irish horan family?”

“i don’t know who they are but my father knows the horan family quite personally. they have been friends for quite some time and my father knows that the horan’s are vastly wealthy.” she darts a look to zayn who evades her gaze by staring at lady marie-antoinette.

“how much are they paying lady marie-antoinette for?” asks harry and before princess jasmine answers, harry continues, “we will pay double. even triple. the styles’ family has no issues with money.”

“well harry,” she says, her cheeks a slight pink color, “that sounds lovely but we know nothing about your family. we do but you’re not horse lovers as much as the horans. in fact, we would have sold the horse to the malik family unfortunately they are dealing with financial issues they cannot afford to buy her.”

“how much did they buy her for?”

“six million pounds harry,” she tells him.

“for a horse?” asks zayn, surprised. princess jasmine rolls her eyes and turns her gaze to harry. she tells him she has to leave and wishes them both a good evening. harry grabs her arm softly and turns her around.

“please,” he is almost begging, “please we, the styles’ family, do care about horses. perhaps you have heard of my father dr desmond styles who has dozens of horses all in a beautiful farm in riyadh and we make sure they are fine and well kept. the horan family…”

“harry baby!” harry knows that voice very well and he groans inside. “what are you doing here at the horse show?”

he sucks it up and turns around, planting a kiss on her red lips. “hi tay! i’m here to buy lady marie-antoinette from princess jasmine.”

“for your father’s birthday?” she asks in her jolly, high-pitched voice, and he nods silently. “that’s a wonderful idea. he does have like 15 horses and adding the most prized horse in the entire world.”

“like i was explaining we are selling the horse to the horan family,” says princess jasmine, feeling as if she is repeating herself over and over again. “and we unfortunately cannot sell it to the styles’ family because we do not trust you with the horses.”

“but the horan family do not care about horses at all, they prefer sheep,” says taylor. zayn and harry turn their attention to taylor and princess jasmine is confused. “the fact is the styles’ family are bigger horse lovers than the horan family ever will be. heck even i have four thorough breds but we are not horse lovers, i just have them around because they’re better than cats. and how well do you know the horan family anyway?”

“so well that i am selling my favorite horse in the entire world to them and not the malik family because i know she will be safe and sound with the horan.”

“why can’t you buy the horse?” asks taylor to zayn.

“we’re broke taylor,” he says rolling his eyes. “buying a six million pound horse would be insane.”

“i can buy it then,” she says adding, “i’ll triple the price. heck i’ll buy lady marie-antoinette for 18 million pounds.”

“that’s really a good offer,” she says, shocked by the price offer taylor is offering, “but…”

“no buts!”

“yeah, no buts,” harry steps in, “because she is not buying this horse, i am.”

“all of you look as if you need time to sort out some issues so i’ll leave you to it,” princess jasmine tells them, slowly walking backwards, “but just to let you know, the official signing of lady marie-antoinette will be done this evening. nothing is set in stone.”

taylor turns to harry excitedly. “did you hear that, we can finally buy the horse off niall and you can get the horse for your father and do you know how proud he will be of you?”

“proud?” he asks her not believing what taylor is saying. “he won’t be proud once he finds out that you helped me buy the horse off princess jasmine. every single time i hit a dead-end you swoop in and help me but that doesn’t make me feel any better. it makes me feel small, not the man i’m supposed to be.”

“who the fuck cares about that?” she asks slowly getting irritated. “we are together harry, and we’ll always be together. we are getting married after graduation, we will get doctorates together and then live in montreal where you will be running your father’s corporation empire and i’ll be your gorgeous wife.”

“i don’t want your bloody help!” he screams before stomping off. he spots his mother laughing heartedly with mckenzie in the distant. she waves at harry and he meets up with them. anne asks how the horse buying is going on for him and he lies to her that it is going great, all that is left is signing the documents in finalizing the sale of lady marie-antoinette.

“then why has taylor just texted me telling me you’ve lost the deal?” she asks anger spread across her face. “you know how important this is to your father and here you are once again losing. you’re always on the losing side.”

“it’s not true, i can fix this,” he tells her but she hears none of it.

“you’re the worst at times, harry,” she tells. “you’re incompetent and can never do anything by yourself. you can’t stand on both your feet without someone out there helping you because you’re hopeless and you know what else? just let taylor fix this, as always.”

anne walks away, with a snarl on her face, a disappointing scowl to be specific. mckenzie sheepishly shrugs, walking away. harry groans and feels deflated. his mother’s words sink deep into his skin, their words making sense and he gives up. well, almost.

“you know, i always thought horses are from outer space.”

harry turns his attention from the horses on the course to louis who is standing behind him donned in a tank top and vans. he scoffs because really, louis is sticking out like a sore thumb from the other people donned in suits and cocktail dresses, and it does not help that the people around are sending him glares.

“you are from outer space dressed in that hideous tank top,” he jokes. louis fake gasps and they both break into laughter. louis gives him a hug, with a small squeeze, before joining him by the wooden barracks.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

“i love things out of space,” he says giving him a wink. he turns around and leans against the barrack to look around at the people holding a glass champagne, speaking english that he cannot understand, fake smiles, fake friendships, fake love, and fake conversations that he can smell from where he is standing. “zayn called me,” he tells him, “and yeah i was surprised to be honest. we’ve never talked, not once yet here he was talking to me, telling me that you hate horses and need a little company.”

“you didn’t have to come all the up to edinburg!” he tells him, not believing that louis somehow got to edinburg from london.

“i got on a horse,” he says bringing a smile to harry’s face instantaneously. “well, liam was on his way here to this horse shit show,” harry fondly rolls his eyes, “so he asked me to tag along, and i did. i’ve never been to a horse show.”

“things have gone horribly wrong again.”

“let’s fix it,” he smiles. “what’s the issue?”

he begins to explain, “somehow someway niall knew about my father’s obsession with horses and he has bought the most wanted horse right now, lady marie-antoinette, for his birthday. taylor wants to buy it but it doesn’t feel right because her name will be on the paper and if it isn’t, it doesn’t feel the same either way. it’s going to be the same bloody shit of her…”

“i get it,” he tells harry, palming his hand to harry’s chest. “but we’re going to find a way out of this.”

“how?”

“because i believe in you,” he tells him. he palms harry’s cheeks softly. “i know you can do this, or whatever needs to be done. you are the man you want to be harry you just have to open your eyes to see that you have control over everything.”

“do you really mean that, you believe in me?” he asks him quietly. a color spreads across his cheeks, his eyes deepily searching into the blue ones for compassion, for something to hold onto.

“i do and you know why?” he asks him, harry shakes his head slowly. “because you’re a king.”

harry remains stunned for a few seconds and slowly nods his head. he murmurs something about needing to make a few calls. louis agrees and turns his attention back to the horses and not to mention ignoring the looks from the people near him. thankfully, the one person he knows steps into his view, well the second person.

“zayn.”

“glad you could come,” zayn says, “where is he?”

“proving himself,” louis smiles proudly.

“listen,” zayn says and louis’ ears are burning. “i don’t know why mckenzie and liam like you so bad, why taylor hates the crap out of you, why niall made his mission to destroy you which i think he will, and why the girls in school aren’t particularly fond of you, i don’t know but somehow harry seems to be drawn to you. every bone in his body loves to be around you and his true self is coming out of his shell he’s been in for years.

“but there’s one thing you need to understand about harry’s world is that people are ruled by money first, then blood lines. well, at times you never know what comes first. i’m sure by being here for like an hour you already know money speaks and everything else follows. our world is funny because teens act like adults, grownups act like their kids, people who are turning half a century acting half their age, guarding huge secrets, spreading lies and gossip all wrapped in breathtaking wealth of numbers that you’ll never see in your lifetime.

“you can’t get your way into his world easily, you either get in through blood or truly opulent wealth but mainly bloodlines. you can mimic our language, our acts, food, culture even, but you’ll constantly feel left out and i know what that is like. my family has recently gone bankrupt and i’m slowly being pushed out of the circle.”

“so what now for you?” he asks, soaking in what zayn is telling him. truly it is a lot to think about. “you think we’re the same because i’m not some rich snob asshole?”

zayn snorts. “it makes jokes. but no, i’m warning you that if you want to be in this world, you’re going to face a lot of shit from all angles it’ll make your head spin, so much so harry might not pull you out to help you. but from what i’ve heard today between haylor and the horan drama, i’ve stopped being wrapped around taylor’s finger and it feels good, and i want the same thing for harry. unfortunately, you’re the only one that can make him break free.”

“unfortunately?”

“just because we’re talking and i’m on your side for this war, doesn’t mean i like you. i’d have rooted for mckenzie instead. or brittany.”

“his ex?”

“yeah, she is awesome,” says zayn.

all louis can say is, “thanks.” for what zayn has just told him. what else can he say anyhow? the following day after the football practice, louis and liam find harry standing just outside the locker room. louis lights up, immediately hugging him and liam asks what he is doing here.

“i’m here to kidnap louis,” he says. louis asks why and harry remains silent. the youngest boy bids liam goodbye. louis takes a seat in the back of harry’s sleek cadillac along with him and almost 20 minutes later, the two lads are walking towards what looks like horse stables to louis.

“you brought me to look at horses?” asks the boy in a tank top.

“patience angel.” with that, harry makes him sit on a bench seat facing a large lawn that goes on for miles and miles. “you know how yesterday i was supposed to buy lady marie-antoinette?” he asks and louis nods his eyes admiring the view. “well i did and i did it all by myself. i got so excited i bought two.”

louis turns his head to gaze at harry, hoping that he is joking. however, harry is as serious as a heart attack. “you’ve got to be joking! why two horses?”

“well, one for my father and the other for zayn,” he explains. “zayn loves horses too much that i got him the lady marie-antoinette and the other is for my father.”

“won’t he know the difference?”

“my dad sees a horse and that’s all it is to him, he won’t know the difference between lady marie-antoinette and a brown horse.”

“so you got zayn _the_ horse?” asks louis and harry nods grinning. “that’s very thoughtful.”

“you should’ve seen his face when i showed it to him this morning! he kept riding on it we skipped the first lesson for school,” he speaks with so much happiness all louis can do is press his face to harry’s shoulders.

“you’re a wonderful asshead,” he mutters his lips pressing against his jawline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who even buys horses???? seems ridiculous to spend a large amount of money on an animal....unless you're filthy rich then sure, whatevs.
> 
> no, i did not spell edinburg wrong, that's how i wanted to spell it [:


	34. 0.33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry ventures into louis' world....

harry could tell, for weeks now, that something is bothering louis and what makes it frustrating is that when it comes to louis, he does not know the first thing about him. lately, it has been louis coming into his world, to find him, pull him out, and help him yet harry does not make the effort.

he knows louis is sad about something but _what_ is the question. obviously, louis is not someone who likes to talk about things that bothers him, he’d rather smoke a packet of dunhill cigarettes, drink to race to the bottom of bottles, or sleep out in his room for hours on end without eating or drinking.

harry makes his way to the field where liam told him louis would be. as he makes his way, he spots a few people from the football team, niall, nick, jonathan and louis at the center laughing hard and the others laughing along with him.

to say he feels little would be an understatement yet he does. firstly, most of them have their skin littered with tattoos, some small, others huge and he has a bloody tattoo of a whale on his thigh. secondly, the smell of weed is thick as he approaches the small group. next is the fact that niall is there. finally, he reaches and one by one they all turn to him and he feels the spotlight, in a the bad way.

“hey harry!” jonathan greets him happily. harry greets him back and at the corner of his eye he can see niall snarling at him but soon enough louis blocks his view, wrapping him in a hug.

“what are you doing here?” asks louis. he reeks of cigarettes, harry notes and he sniffs away the smell, yet the smell is still there.

“came to see you,” he says shrugging.

“is this because of earlier, in class?” asks louis. in today’s mrs maths class, louis got angry with liam, angrily shouting at him, and soon enough liam threw the first punch, then louis and before harry knew it, it was a boxing match. “it was nothing,” louis insists. “just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

nick throws his arm around louis’ shoulders and says they are going to the skate park. harry ignores the growl in his stomach and focuses on louis but it is hard when nick is smiling so close to his face.

“well, i’ll see you tomorrow sunshine,” says louis.

“i’ll come with!” says harry and louis is stunned, nick too. “what? i can skate too.”

“i’d love to see that h,” laughs nick walking away and pulling louis with him. niall walks alongside harry and he picks up his pace.

“i don’t what what you’re doing here,” says niall, walking faster to catch up with harry long legs, “but you should be talking taylor on a date.”

“none of your business what i do on my free time!” mutters harry. an hour later, the football team, or rather louis’ friends, are skating up and down the ramps, having little competitions with each other of who can do the best stunts with their skateboards.

sitting at the top of one of the many ramps, harry watches them do their theatrics. moreso he watches louis, skating up and down the ramp. from the top of the ramp louis skates down it really fast, his tank top swaying against the wind. he gets to the other end of the ramp and his skate zooms off the ramp and into the air and louis grips onto it and does a 360 in the air and skates back down the ramp without a scratch.

harry lets out the breath he does not know he is holding and smiles because that was amazing. he watches several more stunts from the other boys but none compare to the ones louis does, so much so he has been recording some of them on his iphone 10s. harry is too busy watching the boys skate to see louis approaching him in the dark then plopping near him.

“hey!”

“hi,” harry smiles swinging his legs against the cement. “you’re really good out here, skating and whatnot.”

“i’m alright,” he shrugs, his cheeks a tint of red. “i’m happy you’re here, the last time you were it didn’t go down so well.”

“it did,” harry chuckles winking. “niall is always going to be a jerk, that’s not gonna change, and you being my closest friend never will either.”

louis places his head on his shoulders and the two boys watch the others skate up and down the ramp silently. the skater boy abruptly stands up motioning the rich kid to follow him. they walk for a while in the dark night, roaring laughter still being heard from behind them. louis sits on the rail, his feet dangling below as the other lad joins him, leaning his back against it. he hears louis take out a cigarette and light it up, smoke blowing seconds later. the two boys remain in silent, harry beating himself up for being such a silent dork and watching louis take another cigarette from the pack.

after the fourth cigarette, he breaks the silence. he spreads louis’ thighs and stands in between them, resting his palm on his tight black jeans. “some time back i went to starbucks, sat by the window drinking coffee and a muffin. i know it sounds so tumblr but so what i’m a stereotype white person?”

“white girl,” louis corrects taking another drag.

“yeah yeah, make fun but i had an amazing time cause i got to see people going about their lives,” says harry watching louis taking another drag as well as listening to him intently. “there was a woman with far too many bags around her, it looked as if her arms were about to snap out of her body; then passed a teen with earbuds on and staring at something in front of him, then i saw an elderly couple walking so slow the people behind them were sighing so loud i could hear it from where i was seated.”

“you were people watching?” asks louis.

“i like people watching because you see yourself in each person,” says harry. he runs his palms up and down louis thighs and stopping at his pockets, leaning in slightly. “like i could see you with the lad with earbuds walking really fast down the street with converse.”

louis chuckles. “i prefer vans.”

harry takes his packet of dunhill cigarettes before he takes his fifth. louis gazes down at him, his eyes asking for just one more cigarette for the night. louis sighs when harry does not bend to his pleas. he pushes him and hops off the rail and walks away from him. harry stops him, spinning him around.

“talk to me,” he asks searching louis face for _he does not know what_ but he will know when he sees it. “don’t shut me out angel.”

“i’m tired.”

“i can see that you’re hurting and it’s frustrating that you won’t tell me what’s going on with you,” harry says and louis sighs in annoyance. “you’ve been helping me with so much yet when i want to help you too because we’re bestfriends you won’t let me and i’m racking my brain with worry.”

“there’s nothing to worry about.”

“you’re sad about something and you don’t want to talk about it,” says harry, “and i get it but whatever it is is making you lose control like today morning.”

“i didn’t lose control!”

“please louis.”

louis takes one step towards harry and stops. “people think that a japanese lantern, a candle or a prayer is going to bring the dead back, but it’s not. all it does is remind you of the hole that the person left you and they’re not coming back.

“is this about lottie?” asks harry.

“what difference does it make that today you light a bloody white candle, or the week after you visit her grave, or even come across her clothes that still have her smell, when she is dead? what difference?... tell me what difference?”

harry watches louis cry out to him, slow tears pouring down his face, his arms doing frantic gestures as he speaks, his voice cracking in between his words.

“she wasn’t meant to go but instead she did,” cries louis. “the doctors said she didn’t suffer for long but that’s all bullshit. burns are terrible harry. they hurt like hell and she burnt for close to five minutes without help, nobody could enter the bloody house to save her because they were afraid of the fooking fire.”

louis runs his fingers through his hair, hissing desperately. he falls to his knees and harry runs to him, holding him close to him. he is palming his hair as louis has a meltdown. all he can tell him is how sorry he is, assuring him that this is not how lottie would want to be remembered, rather with smiles than tears.

harry wraps himself closer to louis and presses his lips to his temple. shortly, louis cries lower, lower until he stops crying. softly, he wipes his stained cheeks with his thumb and showers his temple and cheeks with kisses, earning with a soft giggle from louis.

“stop, stop!” he mutters tangling himself from harry and standing up and harry grabs his skateboard. “thank you harry.”

“i prefer asshead but harry works too,” chuckles harry. louis swats his arm and walks off, the other boy following.

in harry’s car, louis texts his mother that he will be spending the night at liam’s as harry, on the other hand, is happy that louis confided in him, happy that louis trusts him. he gets cocky when he thinks if liam even knows how sad louis is about his sister’s passing and thinks he does not. they make their way up to the kitchen, harry insisting that louis should eat something.

once harry, rather the kitchen maids, are done making a small sandwich, he turns around to not find louis sitting at the kitchen counter. one of the maids informs him that he is in his bedroom. he carries the sandwiches and two bottles of water up to his room, almost shutting the door behind him.

“nighty h,” mckenzie says once she spots harry. harry does the same and then shuts the door. he places the plate and bottles by the bed and lifts louis up telling him he should eat. the other boy falls back down on the floaty duvet, groaning in his sleep, grumbling something harry does not catch.

“you have to eat something angel,” says harry insistently. “just a sandwich, some water and that’s all.”

“promise i don’t have to go down to eat some seven course meal after my sandwich?” asks louis his words muffled as his face is buried deep into the duvet.

“i do.”

louis gets himself off the bed, much to harry’s amusement, and grabs the sandwich on the plate. he glares at harry as he chews but all harry does is smile into his sandwich taking large bites.

“you’re annoying sometimes,” grumbles louis with his mouth full. “like a dog that hasn’t learned to pee outside the house and not in.”

“i’m more of a cat person myself.”

with one bite, he finishes his sandwich. “like _puss in boots_?”

“exactly!” he exclaims humorously and hands him a water bottle. “you’ve watched the movie?”

“it’s all phoebe and daisy ever watch.” louis shifts on the bed, wriggling himself under the covers. he turns on his right, placing his arm underneath the pillow. “plus puss is actually funny so it’s not that bad to watch.”

“a skater boy watching romantic cartoons?” harry teases. louis hits him underneath the blankets but harry stops the kicks by trapping his leg between his. “i got you,” he murmurs quietly in the dark sounding like a promise. louis shuts his eyes and sleeps like a baby.


	35. 0.34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis attempts in washing harry's hair.

 

“i can literally feel your eyes on me,” louis mutters in his sleep.

for half an hour now, harry has lazily been gazing at louis sleeping, his fringe covering his forehead and eyes (almost), his long lashes laying softly on his olive skin, the cute button nose, his pink lips letting air out gracefully which brings his thoughts to what almost happened last night.

during the night, he detangled himself slowly from louis and went to take a piss. he came back to find louis stretching his hand looking for him sleepily. he blushed and entered the bed. what he does not remember is how they almost kissed but he clearly remembers louis’ lips brushing his jaw, cheek, and lips then he fell asleep. harry remained awake, the warmth of louis’ lips still burning on his, minutes after it had happened.

not forgetting his sheets are now stained by the smell of lemon, the smell of louis.

“you look adorable sleeping,” coos harry. his fingers graze his spine, up and down louis’ back loving the small shudders he feels from louis body. louis groans, burying his head further in harry’s chest. harry lets out a breath he did not know he was holding when louis’ lips brush on his chest and his mind spirals out of control when his body tingles at every warm spot louis body is touching him: toes, knees, thighs, hands and now chest.

louis turns away from him and lays on his back, harry regretting the cold attaching to his skin from the loss of louis.

“you better have woken me up at noon or i’m going to kill you,” louis mutters with his morning raspy voice.

“it’s only 8:30,” admits harry and he chuckles when louis lets out an exasperated sigh. harry bodly straddles louis who in turn looks up from his tiny eyelashes with a questioning look. “did you know you look adorable in the morning?” he asks and quickly snaps a photo of him on his spare samsung galaxy phone. “i can’t get enough!” he adds.

“you’re an asshead,” grunts louis. he covers his face with his hands but harry is not bothered. he snaps a photo of him anyway, admiring the tattoos around his wrist.

“my favorite is your skull tattoo.” a small smile spreads on his face and harry immediately presses the camera button. “if you could see just how handsome you are, you wouldn’t hide your face.”

“shut up asshead!” groans louis a blush spreading on his cheeks and now his ears. he reaches his hand for the phone and he is the one taking photos of harry. harry is never camera shy and strikes a pose every time he hears the camera button being clicked by louis. next louis flips them so now harry’s background shots are his white pillow and sheets. louis shakes his head because honestly, he does not even need a filter for his photos, he looks breathtaking.

niall barges into harry’s room, panting and glares at louis sitting on top of a naked harry (save for his briefs). harry rolls his eyes as louis gets off harry and sits like a pretzel on harry’s white bed.

“rude.”

“me being rude?” asks niall. “me? look at what you’re doing!”

“what am i doing?”

“you’re naked, with a naked man on top of you, taking pictures of each other naked,” says niall walking closer to the bed. “you’re unbelievable harry!”

“you’re the one barging into my room without knocking!”

“he spent the night?” asks niall pointing at louis. harry mutters something along the lines of ‘it’s none of your business.’ “it is my business when he spent the night when you should’ve been out with taylor. it was your anniversary yesterday.”

louis’ eyebrows raise to his hairline and takes a look at harry who looks bored off his mind. harry falls back onto his bed, the two boys bouncing a little.

“you know she was upset yesterday, crying to literally everyone about how you forgot your anniversary, how you didn’t even show up, she waited for you yet you never showed up and now i know why!” he stops to catch his breath from the shouting. he shoots louis death glares who seems to be avoiding all eye contact with niall. “you were here instead, cozied up in bed with this fag!”

harry shoots up from his lying position and screams, “shut the fook up niall!”

“tell me he isn’t one!”

“what does it matter if he’s gay?” asks harry. “like you haven’t had your share of dick.”

“so this is what this is?” asks niall and harry frowns. “revenge fook because you know taylor treats you like a king?” his words are getting louder and louder as harry seems unfazed by it all. his glowing energy that had been on his face is now completely gone. “you honestly have the best person in the entire world.”

“taylor isn’t the best person in the world.”

“it baffles me how when people have tried caviar settle for…” he looks at louis with a huge scowl on his face with nothing but contempt and disgust. “…clown fish.”

niall leaves, thankfully, and harry gets up bouncing on the bed. “let’s take some photos together,” he suggests. louis nods silently. harry scoots up near him resting his chin on his shoulder. “don’t listen to what niall said, he’s a jerk.”

“but he’s got a point,” says louis. “it was your anniversary with your girlfriend yesterday and instead of being there with her you were with me the whole night and now today. i bet she was worried all night.”

“almost 50 missed calls from her and texts asking where i am,” says harry nonchalantly. “but what’s the use of celebrating an anniversary when it’s a constant reminder of your shitty relationship? the relationship that’s meant to be filled with love and compassion but instead feels like a business agreement.”

with a finger on louis’ jawline, he slowly turns his smol head so that they are gazing at each other. louis gulps down at how close they are and his fingers tighten on the duvet he had been holding onto.

“i’d rather spend my night with someone who i laugh harder with someone i feel more alive with. someone i feel more myself with and looks beyond my bank account and surname.” harry draws their faces closer, louis’ playing it cool, trying not to think of harry’s heavenly warm breath hitting his lips. “i’d rather spend time with someone who likes the real me, when something goes wrong, or right, i tell them. or when i hear a funny joke, they’re the first one i want to tell it to.”

“harry,” is all louis manages to say. harry shifts around on the bed and insists they keep taking photos. louis rolls his eyes and agrees. he gets on his knees, his arms on either side of harry’s face and snaps them like that.

they take a series of selfies: louis makes lots of funny faces, eyes criss-crossed, tongue out as harry, in almost each one, is gazing fondly at louis. the older boy nuzzles his nose in harry’s neck, his arms giving out from holding the phone for long, inhaling harry’s scent, a mix of unicorns, rainbows and sex. and greasy hiar.

“when was the last time you washed your hair?”

“i was going to go to the country club salon today,” explains harry, “but i’ve been busy lately.”

“let me do it,” suggest louis. harry turns his back and raises an eyebrow. “i’ll wash your hair.”

“nope.”

“aw c’mon.”

“not in a million years.”

“be a sport.”

“over my dead body.”

“i’ve got three sisters and a mom who all say i’m ridiculously good at washing hair,” louis says vouching for himself. “and liam,” he adds. harry sighs giving in and allows himself to be led to his bathroom. “sit by the sink,” instructs louis. harry obeys grabbing a white towel to wrap around his shoulders and pointing to a large cabinet where all his 19 different shampoos are stored.

louis whistles at the sight and picks the banana-scented one. he flips the tap handle, water wetting harry’s shoulder-length hair. next, he squirts the banana shampoo on top of his head and begins spreading it around. instantly, bubbles and foam cover his hands that are scratching his scalp, washing his head thoroughly.

“stop staring.”

“can’t help it,” glees harry. “you’re washing my hair.”

louis shakes his head and continues washing. he rinses the foam off, a tiny scent of banana in the large, pristine bathroom. he squirts a second round of shampoo and begins scrubbing. harry lets out a small moan from his plump lips as louis massages his scalp real good. louis smirks, loving the effect he has on harry, so much harry’s blue briefs tighten.

harry’s eyes flash open _feeling_ his throbbing problem. he avoids louis’ eyes burning into his skin at all cost, his cheeks flushing a deep red. louis closes the tap and dries his hands off with the white towel on the rack.

he comes into harry’s view, making sure a furiously blushing harry is gazing up at him. “do you trust me?” he asks and harry weakly shrugs, not trusting his mouth with words at the moment. “good.”

harry’s mouth forms a large ‘o’ when louis’ palm slide down his long torso and rest on his crotch, and firmly press down. he applies more pressure on the outline of harry’s bulging cock, watching harry’s eyes turn into a dark shade of lust. he bucks his hips against louis’ hand, waiting for him to do something.

harry’s eyes search for louis. “louis,” he hisses and bites down on his bottom lip. his gaze never leaving louis amused one, he grabs louis’ hand and presses it on top of his briefs. louis then swats his hand from his and pulls harry’s head back tugging down on his wet hair. he presses his lips to harry’s adam’s apple, palming his boxers at the same time.

beneath his briefs, louis grabs his cock and applies pressure on it and feels the vibrations on his lips as harry’ grunts lowly. as louis continues palming him, he is kissing down his throat and presses a long kiss to the small space where his collar bones and neck disappear. louis yanks harry’s head down once more, not enough to hurt him, and applies more pressure to little, nay big harry who bucks his hips and next thing louis feels his hand moist.

“uh…” harry mumbles shly. “m’sorry about that. you’re… amazing.”

“i was done with your hair anyway,” louis says, casually brushing off what he had done to harry a few seconds ago. “i’ll be outside.”

with that he walks out into harry’s bedroom leaving him with his dirty thoughts and wet briefs. minutes later he walks out cladded in a briefs and sweatpants (just to be safe).


	36. 0.35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the end of an era for harry.

for the next couple of days, harry has been making it up to his girlfriend for having missed their anniversary party, and date. he profusely apologized, then took her on expensive dates, pricy shopping trails, a sleek new car with a personalized number plate : haylor. it really is all harry could have done.

tonight, it is his umpteenth time in repairing his relationship with her and he earlier suggested they all have dinner: his family and taylor at his mansion. to say he is nervous would be correct. he is simply nervous, that is all. sitting down for a meal with his girlfriend became bearable over the copious amount of dates through the years but when taylor suggest that they bring along both their parents, he gets nervous.

his chokes on air out of nowhere.

some nights ago it was chuck bass’ charity gala and it was then when daddy taylor hinted at a marriage union between himself and taylor. he thought it was all a joke before mrs taylor whipped out the very ring he is going to use to propose to her daughter on graduation day. his palms are getting sweaty as he is heading to his aston martin, his feet feel weak as they hit the ground. he cannot do this. he cannot.

niall had been following him the whole time, and he was getting on harry’s nerves because it felt like niall is spying on him. for what, he has now idea.

“what?” he grumbles when niall leans his body against his car. “i can’t handle you right now. in case you didn’t know i’ve got a dinner date to plan with my girlfriend and her family.” he sighs loudly. “which apparently includes you somehow,” he adds.

“i’m touched,” he feigns interest. “ but that’s not why i’m here. i’m here to make sure that you don’t pull that louis stunt again.”

“what stunt?”

“you know what i mean.” niall stands on his two feet, his arms dangling by his sides. “you cuddling with louis all saturday, heaven knows whatever you two were doing.”

“what’s your point niall?” asks harry getting irritated. lately niall has been dropping hints at something he cannot put his finger on and each time he would ignore him (like he has so many times in the past) but this time it was like a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“you remember julius?” harry’s head shoots up and he frowns, breathing heavy. of course he knows julius, everybody in school knew about julius and him, and the horrible events that happened after julius **and** harry. niall continues, seeing harry’s dreadful expression. “how would louis feel if he knew about julius?”

harry remains silent. he gulps down a large pint of saliva and his head drops to look at his ysl black heeled boots.

“i’m pretty sure louis is the only person in this school who doesn’t know about julius,” says niall loving the harry’s tormented face. “i bet he’d love to know what happened between hulius seeing as he was the first boy you were ever seriously with.”

“you wouldn’t dare!”

“try me,” niall challenges. harry remains quiet, reading niall’s face for any bluffs but niall is true to his word.

“you know he’d hate me forever if he ever found out about julius and i,” says harry desperately. “he would never forgive me for what i did and you know that, you know that niall.” he takes a shaky breath, blinking the tears that are pooling in his eyes. “don’t do this.”

“you think you’ve got everybody fooled don’t you?” asks niall, a hint of animosity on his tongue. “but i know the real you and i know what you’re capable of. not even liam knows your dark side, not zayn, not taylor, not even fucking mckenzie but i do.”

“please niall,” harry begs, his lips trembling. “i’m trying hard, i’m trying very hard to forget what i did to julius and it’s been haunting me for years now. i’m trying to be a good person.” he takes a deep breath in hopes of stopping his cracking voice. “i am a good person,” he adds with uncertainty. “but i do know that i love taylor and i’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“stop whatever is going on with louis and he’ll never know about julius,” orders niall. “you know i play rough.”

before he can reply, niall turns on his heels and heads to the football pitch. he opens his car door violently and shuts it even more violently. he slams his hands against the steering wheel, letting his tears flow freely down his red cheeks.

how long can he hang on?

seven o’clock could not have come any faster but it did anyway, much to harry’s dismay. with small chit chat, taylor narrating her day, something about a fight with kendall that he does not know how it started, or ended for that matter. hours later, over a meal cooked by one of the best chefs in all of england paired with the sweetest red wine.

daddy taylor clears his throat and stands up, holding his glass of wine up. “to say i am proud of my daughter, my little munchkin, would be nothing but the truth. and to know that her future is written in the stars makes me so happy. she is dating one of the best boys in school, and london in fact, and i’m proud to call him my son. soon the both of you will be engaged when you both head off to harvard.”

“actually harry hasn’t gotten in yet,” taylor explains, interrupting her father’s speech. “but no worries, we’ll work on something.”

“you always save your knight in shining armor,” says daddy taylor grinning at his daughter. “and to be here, standing, knowing my daughter’s future and son-in-law, which i can finally call you now, is going to be filled with money, power, and glory, the holy trinity.”

the rich snobs at the table raise their wine glasses in a cheer. harry sets down his glass and tunes his voice out. listening to his future, which he has never had a say in, is draining him so much he thinks he does not have a single ounce of blood in him. underneath the table he sends a quick text to louis.

 **HARRY:** Distract me please!!!

 **LOUIS:** Dinner date going horribly?

 **HARRY:** I’m in the 6th layer of HELL

 **LOUIS:** Knock knock jokes?

 **HARRY:** Please!

 **LOUIS:** Knock knock

 **HARRY:** :)

 **HARRY:** Who’s there?

 **LOUIS:** Knock knock jokes suck

 **HARRY:** Knock knock jokes suck who?

 **LOUIS:** Dear Greek gods help me!

 **HARRY:** Another! Please!

 **LOUIS:** I know you like cheesy! How about: what’s the difference between snowmen and snowladies?

 **HARRY:**?

 **LOUIS:** SNOWBALLS

 **HARRY:** AHAHAHAHA NEXT

 **LOUIS:** Why did the blonde get excited after finishing her puzzle in 6 months?

 **HARRY:** Uh because she defied the odds of being the stereotype dumbo.

 **LOUIS:** Terrible answer asshead!

 **HARRY:** Cause she has an IQ of 160?

 **LOUIS:** You’re getting worse!

 **HARRY:** Tell me then!

 **LOUIS:** The box said 2 – 4 years.

 **HARRY:** Oh crap. I’m overthinking

 **LOUIS:** What do you call a bear with no teeth?

 **HARRY:** UNBEARABLE???? AHAHHAHAH GET IT????

 **LOUIS:** NO!

 **HARRY:** AAHAHHA THAT WAS HILAROUS

 **LOUIS:** Stop! K

 **HARRY:** What’s the answer though?

 **LOUIS:** Gummy bears :}

“harry!” taylor hisses, and he pockets his phone back into his suit pants. his mother is actually making a speech now, at least daddy taylor had finished his.

“i didn’t want to tell harry just yet because i wanted all the people he loves and cares about were here to hear what i have to say,” anne says making eye contact with every single person on the table. “harry got into yale.”

“what?” asks harry surprised. taylor cheers, hurriedly kissing his cheek. the people around the table raises their wine glasses in happiness. “since when?”

“since yesterday.”

“but my rejection letter came by last week,” says harry confusion written all over his face.

“i know but i fixed it,” smiles anne. harry knows that smile all too well, he knows what it means and he sinks into his chair. anne pulled some strings, opened her mouth wide enough for long objects to fit her mouth in, or paid hundreds of thousands of pounds to yale.

“enough!”

the room falls silent and for a couple of seconds the chit chat stops and nobody breathes. harry’s eyes grow wild when he realizes he is the one who in fact has said the word ‘enough’. he gulps before standing up. he takes a swipe of everyone at the table, many maids hovering about somewhere in the background but that is not what he is focusing on.

first is his breath which is rugged so much so he has to _think_ about taking in air, count to two, then taking air out. secondly, is picking up his wine glass which is shaking in his arms from the sudden attention he has captured in the room. thirdly are his thoughts, screaming at him to sit his ass back down because who does he think he is, grabbing attention like this?

louis’ somehow pops into his mind, recalling the day they both drove to oxford university after he confessed to louis that he was rejected from oxford. louis literally dragged him out of class that day and they both drove to oxford, despite the long drive hours, and it was not all in vain.

louis believed in him, believed that he could get an acceptance letter. that is not the only time louis stood by his side. at the recent horse show, louis truly believed he could somehow buy the world’s most wanted horse without someone else’s name written on the paycheck, nor did he have to pay off people, or sleep with them, or even let taylor take over and take all the credit.

and right now, he knows, like a candle in the dark, that louis believes in him, no matter what he does or says, louis is always going to support him. and that’s all it takes for harry not to sit back down on his chair.

“i got into harvard!” he says without happiness, or sadness, in his voice. it’s dry, like the company at the table. his glass of wine is still shaking but he instead focuses on the people around the table. niall is shooting him daggers, taylor is smiling like an idiot, daddy taylor and his wife and waiting to hear what he has to say, and his mother is drinking wine bashfully. he cares less about the rest of the people at the table and continues with the reason he stood up.

“today i’m announcing the end of an era,” he says dramatically. “my six year relationship with taylor is over.”

he basically just wrote his suicide note, he knows. he just set of the ticking time bomb and he can hear the blast _still_ going off seconds after he announced the world-shattering news. it really is though in his world, in their world, their rich, wealthy universe.

he rushes out of the room before anyone can utter a word. he is however stopped by niall only to be punched across the face. he palms the place he has just been hit, pain spreading across his face. he keeps walking, blocking out taylor’s screams asking him to stay, and not to walk away from her.

harry feels a sudden wave of relief, even borderline freedom, air flowing through his brunette hair driving down the highway. the cars he is passing are all a blur, the speed-o-meter reaching almost at its maximum and his leg pressed all the way down. he manages to not get into an accident, or scratch his aston martin the whole way through when he stops in front of liam’s mansion.

sitting alone in the car he manages to come out of his car. earlier he had driven by to louis’ house, wanting nothing but to be in his arm, compassionate hug. his heavenly constant smell of lemon that he has come to know and love. he could not bring himself to walk up to louis’ house because niall’s words would haunt him like the terrible smell of burnt tyres in louis’ neighborhood, and then he would think about julius and what the terrible things he did to him.

he shuts his eyes trying to get the image of julius out of his head. he tries too hard but suddenly it’s as if he can smell julius, hear his laughter, see the crinkles by his eyes and the huge amount of trust and acceptance he gave harry. all he ever did was hurt him, without a sorry.

he puts his car into drive and swerves out of liam’s neighbourhood and goes back on the highway, this time trying to drive as far as he can. driving away from everything. driving away.

 


	37. 0.36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rumors, rumors going round but not what niall tells louis about julius, aka harry's julius.

all day, including yesterday, everyone at school has been eyeing louis, or rather sending him death glares. he truly does not know what is going on but thankfully he has trisha for that, the gossip buzz. she turns her back to the cafeteria and gulps down her water.

“you honestly don’t know?” she inquires.

“no!” he huffs. “i don’t know why everyone is suddenly looking at me. is it cause i got a piercing? because that’s a stupid reason to stare at me.”

“nobody cares about your bloody piercing and your gothic phase,” she says and louis narrows his eyes at her. “it’s about the rumors going round.”

“what rumors?”

“didn’t you hear about the dinner two nights at taylor’s mansion?” she asks and louis shakes his head taking a bite of his sandwich. “well rumor has it haylor is no more!” louis chokes on his sandwich. he coughs a few times and grabs trisha’s water bottle. “ew!”

“oh don’t mind me as i choke!” he growls at her. “i’m just simply dying. anyhow what do you mean haylor is over?”

“harry broke off their relationship of six years two nights ago,” she says. “and get this, niall punched him later and harry embarrassingly walked away with a huge black eye. others say that nobody even tried to stop niall from hitting his face again with another punch. literally everybody was in their seats.”

“no one got up?”

she shakes her head, taking a sip of her water. “not even his mother. maybe cause she drowned half the party!”

louis looks down at his sandwich, his insides falling one by one thinking of poor harry all alone in a room of people who do not care that much about him. not one person with a compassionate heart. “then what happened?”

“people are saying that it was your fault that they broke up.”

“me?” he questions, surprised at the accusation. trisha nods, sipping more of her water.

“you apparently told harry to break up with taylor because you fook better than she does in bed and you bought him a yacht,” explains trisha. louis’ does not believe what he is hearing. people are ridiculous. “i thought it was nonsense.”

“it is!” agrees louis.

trisha is of a different thought however when she says, “because you can’t afford a yacht.”

louis scoffs. “honestly trisha! i am not wasting my money on a yacht. i’d rather buy out a skate park with that kind of money.” trisha rolls her eyes because this is typical louis. “is he okay?”

“don’t ask about taylor but ask about harry.”

“of course! i don’t give a shit about taylor!” he cries.

“nobody’s seen him since the dinner date,” says trisha casually, “and quite frankly everyone is on taylor’s side not harry’s. you know what he did is unforgivable. rumor has it he forgot about their anniversary and spent it with some shmuck.”

“that was me idiot!” louis says swatting her arm playfully. her mouth drops and her eyes widen. “what? why are you looking at me like that?... honestly stop! it’s creepy…. say something trisha.”

“why the fuck would you make him not go for his anniversary?”

“i didn’t know about it. the next morning niall barged in and that’s when i found out it was haylor’s anniversary,” admits louis truthfully but trisha’s surprise expression is plastered on her face. “what now?”

“you spent the night?”

he shrugs. “yeah, why?”

“nothing,” she says in a light voice taking a quick gulp of her water. “it’s just… rumor has it nobody spends time at harry’s house, not even taylor or his best friend liam. i don’t know why but it’s like a no-go zone.”

before louis can ask more about why people have been eyeing him cold-blooded niall sits down near trisha and has a fake smile on his lips.

“hi babe!” he greets trisha who squirms away from him. niall rolls his eyes and turn to louis. “you’re a terrible person i hope you know that. you caused harry to break up with his soulmate.”

“i didn’t do anything,” he says forcefully.

“doesn’t matter,” niall says not caring much for louis’ cries. “you’ve been friends with harry for what, a whole semester now?” louis says nothing, munching on his sandwich in silence. “i bet he’s told you about julius.”

“julius?” asks trisha, perking up. “ _the_ julius person?”

niall nods excitedly. “the very one.”

trisha turns to louis and sees the blank expression on his face. “julius was harry’s thing. rumor has it it was the most adorable relationship ever. so cute, so adorable it makes me puke unicorns and rainbows every time i hear about julis **and** harry.”

“why?” wonders louis.

“look who’s interested all of a sudden,” smirks niall. “i could tell you all about it.”

trisha cheers as she closes her water bottle, encouraging him on. “yes, please do.”

“louis?” questions niall with a malice smirk that the two other people at the table cannot decipher.

louis remains quiet, apprehensive as he does not trust niall, not that he ever did but he is a little curious about this _julius guy_ that harry may or may not have dated in the past. plus, he now wonders why harry has never mentioned him, not once, not ever.

“who is julius?” he asks and niall begins his narrative of _the_ julius, harry’s julius as he has always been known as.


	38. 0.37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry opens up about what is troubling him, louis is beyond shocked to see how low harry has been.

on tuesday, liam sent mckenzie a “HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM” text informing him that niall told louis about julius, every single detail including showing him the video that up until now, only niall and taylor have seen the video. the two larrents had to think fast on their feet on fixing the mess niall had created the previous day.

it was only so much they could both do because inevitably, louis and harry would confront each other about julius therefore in the meantime both of them decided to lessen the pain that would result because of the confrontation.

today, being a lovely wednesday, mckenzie sets about going to taylor’s house and finding that video, somehow some way. liam on the other hand, feels it is better if he sends a message to niall by punching him across the cheek. twice. and again on the nose until he is bleeding and his cheek has turned purple in pain.

“why did you hit me?” niall asks, his palm pressed to his cheek. they are both in the locker room, all the footballers turning in time to see the punch liam threw at niall. heaven knows some of them would have wanted to be in liam’s position.

“you know why!” he mutters and walks out amidst small cheers. he faintly hears niall shouting at them and he makes his way for lunch when he meets up with louis at his own locker. “surprised to see you here,” he tells louis.

“i’ve missed you,” louis winks.

“nowadays when you come up to me it’s always about harry,” he tells him in a way that he does not mean it in a serious manner but louis nevertheless gets the message.

“sorry about that,” he apologizes to liam. “it’s just that i feel as if ever since the whole haylor break up he hasn’t been himself. i haven’t heard from him for what, three days now.”

“remember last time you freaked out for no reason turns out it was because he was with his father?” asks liam smirking. louis rolls his eyes because liam does have a point except he feels as if this time something is most definitely wrong with harry.

“good point but this time it’s cause of taylor.”

“and julius,” adds liam wearily.

“niall told me.”

“i see you punched him,” chuckles liam. louis and him roar into laughter. “it feels good to punch him.”

“i know i always come to you for harry but i swear this is the last time but where is he?” wonders louis. “we usually go for froyos every wednesday after school and he never misses yet he’s not in school.” liam raises an eyebrow. “what?” he questions, crossing his arms across his chest.

liam shakes his head, a small smirk on his plump lips. “nothing. i said nothing about your weird frozen yoghurt dates with the harry styles.”

louis swats his arm. “shut up liam!”

“okay okay i will,” liam laughs holding his hands in the air indicating he is done teasing louis. “i don’t know where he is to be honest. he called zayn on monday to go for a car race and that’s the last any of us have seen him.”

“that was days ago!” louis shrieks, surprising liam. he clears his throat and repeats in a normal tone, “that was days ago. something could’ve happened. anything could’ve happened to him in two days.”

“i don’t think he can do anything stupid,” says liam, shutting his locker door. he begins to walk, mindlessly talking about harry being fine when he notices that louis is still standing at the locker door. “what is it?” he asks louis.

“take me to his house now,” mutters louis, his eyes strained on something behind liam. liam questions him. “take me now,” growls louis. liam silently nods, despite both of them having one more lesson before school ends.

louis takes the passenger seat of liam’s aston martin and they take off from school. from the corner of liam’s eye, he sees louis busy tapping on his sony phone, probably to harry he thinks, his brows crunched in the middle. he brings his phone to his ear, but says nothing, probably because harry (he guesses) does not answer the phone.

“you don’t think he is going to do something stupid do you?” asks liam, choosing his words carefully. his eyes are glued on the road, trying not to crash his aston martin into _anything_ with the speed that it is going at.

“i don’t know.” louis taps on his sony phone, his thumbs moving rapidly and his index finger pressed hard against the side of his phone. “i hope not.” liam quickly glances to his right, worry written all over his face. he steps on the pedal.

outside harry’s mansion, liam begs louis to do his best at whatever he is doing. flashes of _that night_ come to his mind, when he let harry go, because his (stupid) silky shirt ripped from his fingers. louis silently nods and liam informs him he will be waiting in the car.

louis runs to the mansion, the butler welcoming him in with “hello sir louis” and louis gently nods, running past him to the roof. panting, he turns the knob of the door but it is locked. he twists his head and asks the maid standing by the wall to open it.

“sir harry ordered us not to open the door,” the maid tells him. his voice almost resembles that of a robot and it sends chills down louis’ spine.

louis begs of him to open it. “please, i need to help him. we need to help him.”

“sir harry ordered us not—” louis cuts him off by pouncing on him, rummaging his body looking for the key. the maid fights back, pushing louis off his body. a tiny fist comes into contact with the maids stomach, sending him down to the floor. louis takes the moment to grab the keys hanging from his belt and opening the door to the rooftop quickly. he shuts it before the maid can come through, hearing loud bangs on it.

he whips his body around and his eyes are fixed on harry. harry is watching him. harry is standing on the ledge. harry’s face is pale save from his cheeks. harry’s hair is damp, stuck to his face and softly flowing with the wind. and with the final step, louis can _smell_ the small hope left in him.

“don’t come any closer,” harry begs. louis hears the cracks in his voice, his begging and sadness.

“don’t do this.” louis takes a tiny step toward harry when he sees harry’s focus is off him. “we can work something out.”

“there’s nothing to work out, my life is literally over.” harry’s green eyes that always glittered when he is with louis now have lost their spark. “i broke up with my life-time girlfriend, wasn’t accepted into yale, my mother hates me more than ever.” little by little, harry is bleeding dry in front of louis. “my father called me today morning demanding me to get back together with taylor. i basically shot a hole through everything i love.” harry’s eyes painfully look at louis, looking at him like glass. “tell me why i should listen to you.”

louis tries as much to not hear the cold, distant voice rippling through the young, rick kid but it is hard not to. louis opens his mouth but nothing comes out. he shuts it, and harry sighs turning around on the thin ledge.

“it all ends eventually,” louis says heavy with hope at least what he is saying is getting through to him. he takes small steps to harry as he talks. “high school doesn’t last forever and six years from now you’ll be whole again, not in pieces. you won’t remember the names of the stupid assholes you made you cry or the dickhead girls who smiled your way just to get into your pants. you won’t remember the times that you were humiliated by your girlfriend, belittled by niall, disowned by liam and mckenzie when you needed them the most, or when zayn always snitched on you so he would be scot free.”

louis is two large steps from the wall that harry is standing on. he can see the salty tears wetting his red cheeks, the way his mouth hangs low and his face fallen.

“yes high school will drain you,” he continues nevertheless. “it is draining you and i can see that. sometimes you feel like screaming out loud when the teacher asks you a question, people snicker behind your back because you’re not as smart as them, you’re never like them and it bothers you. your mom was never around to hold you, your dad was absent in teaching how to play footie, or take you for your first drink and your sister is… i don’t know really. but all this shouldn’t make you take that jump, again.”

“why not?” asks harry plainly.

“because!”

“because what?” harry asks and louis has no answer. “i got caught up in my own life, fooked up as it is, caught in my own lies, i keep wondering if it’s meant to be or if i can be someone. but i can’t. let me have my release.”

louis catches the silent begging, the boy’s hope running low, very low.

“we were meant to go for froyo today.” harry turns on his heels to look at louis and he sighs internally. as long as harry does not turn to look at the ground, louis thinks he is fine. “you were meant to have the disgusting watermelon flavor and i the bland vanilla and then finally we both would’ve tried all the flavors.”

he takes a deep sigh. “you are free to jump off the roof.” harry frowns. “but what about our first date? we were meant to go for spicy fries and a burger together.” harry’s expression turns from cold to numb, his knuckles not white anymore from fisting hard besides his thighs. “then we would have our first kiss at some cheesy date you thought of.” the small smile on harry lips escapes as soon as it appears. “our first time making love, then we graduate together, you’ll be going to harvard or yale and i’ll be working at mcdonald’s to pay for my university fees.” louis chuckles and harry cracks a smile. “after we would live in an apartment in nyc overlooking central park, especially in the autumn when the leaves have fallen and the view is to die for. you’d constantly be taking pictures with your polaroid camera and i’d yank it from you because it’s the 30th time you’re taking a damn picture of leaves.”

a small chuckle escapes harry lips. louis keeps his smile plastered on his face, venturing on. “we’d have couple fights, me not doing laundry at all, you complaining about how all i ever wear is adidas you feel as if you’re married to the store itself.” harry lets out a breathy chuckle, running his fingers through his hair for about the umpteenth time. “we will for so long that we will see our grandkids on the weekends because our damn children put us in a home, where even though we’re miserable in that place waiting for god’s call, we will have each other and that’s all that matters.”

“if our kids wear adidas i’m divorcing you.”

louis and harry both chuckle, harry’s softer than louis’. a heavy weight is lifted off harry’s shoulders but not completely to get him to step off the ledge.

“give yourself one more chance,” asks louis. “open up again, and give yourself a second chance.” louis then gives him reasons to. “this time i’ll be here, i’ll be your boat when you never had one before. this can only happen if you let me in and i’ll do my best to be there every step of the way, holding your hand, and only letting for when you ask me to.”

“i’d never ask you to.”

louis holds out his palm for harry to take. harry’s gaze drops to his palm, hesitant to grab to it. he looks behind him, the long way down, the _freedom_. “please.” louis voice rings in his ears. he lets out a shaky breath and takes louis’ hand. louis pulls him him down and immediately crushes him into a hug, his arms curling around his torso. he showers his neck with kisses, wet and dry soft ones, and then his forehead, cheeks and chin.

“you promised froyo,” says harry, a dry chuckle escaping his pink lips.

with a smile, they leave the rooftop and make their way out to find liam leaning against his aston martin. his face erupts into a smile when he sees louis and harry making their way to him. he wraps his arms around harry’s shoulders holding him tightly. he mouths a thank you louis’ way and the older boy nods.

minutes later, louis and harry, minus liam, find themselves ordering for froyo. harry has loaded his with fruits and louis with oreos and sour jelly frogs. louis suggests they go to the skate park to finish off their froyo instead of where they are. with their legs dangling against the concrete walls, they are sitting in the middle of one of the many ramps at the skate park, mindlessly watching people skate up and down the ramps, occasionally doing tricks in the air.

“i always said i’d jump but i never did before,” says harry swallowing his watermelon froyo. louis averts his attention to harry. he sits facing him, criss cross that both their knees are touching. “but this time, today, i was proper going to do it. i swear i was.”

“how many times have you done this before?”

“i did jump once. i fell off and liam tried to grab my but my shirt ripped and i fell. liam to this day blames himself for that day, i mean i would’ve died and i don’t think he’d live with the guilt, although he’d get over it. but that’s not the worst part. the worst part was waking up in the hospital room, begging to be dead instead of being thankful that you got another chance at life.”

“what happened when you woke up?”

“the first person i could hear was my mother’s cries filling the room. her sobs, her screaming of how she would miss me if really i was dead. i opened my eyes and i will never forget the disappointed look on my father, the sorrow looks from my mother and her insistent sobs making me wish i actually did crack my head on the pavement harder . not forgetting the looks i got when i went back to school after everyone found out about my suicide attempt and everyone laughing that i was such a failure i couldn’t manage to successfully kill myself.”

louis brings his plam to harry’s cheek. “i for one i’m happy you failed. i believe in second chances, and also, in there being a reason for everything.”

harry looks at him saying nothing. what can he possibly say anyway? his head is a little dizzy from his hand, feeling his cheeks heat up under the moonlight. he shuts his eyes and leans into louis’ hand. he then feels louis warm breath tickling his chin, followed his lips grazing his jawline, planting many kisses along until below his ears.

“i constantly feel sad and people keep telling me that my life isn’t bad, i mean i am the harry styles,” he snorts and shakes his head. “but i feel as if my chest is rotting, weighed down by rocks. rocks of sadness and loneliness.” he remains mum, his eyes darting to see someone do a flip in the air with their skateboard. “and too much cocaine lines in freshman year.”

now louis feels as if _his_ chest is being weighed down by rocks all wanting to reach out and grab harry. louis does though, his hand locking his harry’s free hand. “i lost my dear sister already,” he tells him sincerely, “i can’t lose you too.”

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“nonsense,” louis hushes him, “don’t apologize. and anyway, apologize for what?”

“for the mess i am.”

instead of replying, louis instead showers him with kisses all over including his palms. harry’s body vibrates with laughter asking louis to stop. they sit in silence watching skaters doing tricks in the air and eventually louis notices harry shutting his eyes and jerking himself awake. louis picks up their empty frozen yoghurt containers and making their way out of the skate park. louis suggests they take the bus home but harry sends him a _are you crazy?_ look. he points to a man donned in a suit and tie waiting by a black cadillac.

“when did you call him?” questions louis.

“when we were coming here.” he opens the door for him and louis slips in. “the bus?” he questions shaking his head at louis. “me take the bus! be serious tomlinson.” louis simply rolls his eyes lowering his body in the back seat. harry buries his head in the crook of his neck as louis wraps his arm around his shoulder, dreamily scratching up and down harry’s arm. the chauffeur parks in front of louis’ house, the noise of the train irritating harry already not to mention the awful smell of burnt tyre.

“i can walk to the front door all by myself styles.”

“i know,” he chuckles slightly. they both get to the front door and louis turns on his heels and leans against the door. “i just wanted to make sure no thief or murderer jumped out of those hedges.” louis raise an eyebrow at him. with this neighbour hood you never know,” he adds.

louis rolls his eyes, a smile spreading across his thin mouth. “you’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“thank you sincerely for today,” harry tells him. his gaze falls to his feet, fumbling with his fingers behind his back. “i know i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” he looks up to catch louis’ gaze. “i’m glad i held on for so long so that something good could happen.”

louis does not know how to reply to that so he asks, “do you want to spend the night? mama made her special pasta.”

harry shakes his head. “no. liam’s coming over. i need to finally explain that whatever happened that night was not his fault, if my shirt ripped i’d have done it again until i succeeded.”

louis attacks harry with a hug, squeezing his middle tightly, his nose buried in harry’s chest. “don’t ever say that, don’t think that.” his fingers slightly grip his ysl shirt. “please,” he adds and harry softly nods against his head.

“you smell like lemons,” harry notes.

“reminds me of her,” mums louis speaking about his sister, lottie. “it’s the only way i can keep her alive.”

they both stand, hands wrapped around each other, for so long that they both do not feel time ticking after a while. louis is the first to let go, remembering that harry’s chauffeur is in the cadillac waiting for harry.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks him and harry nods. “text me when you get home.”

“i will.”

after seconds of neither of them attempting to move, louis tells harry to go home. “c’mon asshead, get in your car and go home.”

“not until you get in your house.”

“i’m literally safe from any murderers, it’s you i’m worried about.” louis smiles in a sly manner and crosses his arms. “go now.”

“after you.”

louis does not move from the spot he is standing on. “now styles or i’ll drag you to your car.”

“you can drag me?” asks harry doing him a once-over, “you’re so short!”

louis gasps. “i’ll have you know i’m 5’9” and quite strong thanks to playing football every day. in fact, i’ll show you.”

louis grabs harry’s right hand and pushes him forward. harry’s muscles clench and louis pulls harder and harder till harry is being pulled forward, his feet tumbling before gaining ground. he walks to his car, louis still dragging him with his hand.

“you’re… i don’t even know what to say,” harry mutters, smiling at louis. the latter opens the door and stands beside it. “such a gentleman,” he teases.

louis sticks out his tongue at him. “only for you.” he then tip toes and kisses harry’s cheek bone. “i’m serious, text me when you get home.”

harry nods and with one last hug, he enters the car and the black car speeds off louis’ street.

 

*******

** **

the next morning louis is jolted awake by his sister fizzy. he groans pulling the covers up to his face but fizzy yanks them off him.

“wake up!” she cheers. “you have presents downstairs.”

“fook away!” grunts louis sleepily.

“they’re from harry.”

louis lets out a loud grunt before throwing away the covers and pushing his sister out of his room. he gets ready, taking a shower and brushing his teeth, and makes his way downstairs. at the bottom of the stairs is his stepfather with a wide smile on his face.

“what?” he grunts.

“your present!” he exclaims. “didn’t fizzy tell you?”

“i thought she was joking.”

“nope,” he says shaking his head. louis walks past his stepfather and right there in the middle of the living room is his present, rather presents. stacked on top of each other are invisible boxes with different designs of vans and on each box is a letter of his surname. fizzy hands him a note saying it was on top of the box marked ‘t’.

he opens it and it reads:

_thank you so much for last night, s .xx_

the second note reads:

_please don’t let me return this gift, it was bad enough i was in a vans shop for close to an hour. an hour tomlinson_

“can we open them?” asks fizzy excitedly.

“yeah can we?” asks his stepfather just as excited as his sister. louis smiles at the stacks of boxes with vans in them and nods at the two of them. his stepfather grabs the one marked ‘o’ and fizzy the one marked ‘m’. the three of them open all the boxes until there is the one marked ‘n’ left. louis takes it and opens it, finding a note on top of the shoes. it reads:

_here’s to second chances .xx s_

“are those the vintage vans?” questions his stepfather. louis is unable to grasps the fact that he owns the vintage vans he has been wanting his entire life. they are literally only 30 in the entire world, they cost over tens of thousands of pounds for one, and one must make an order six months in advance to get one. “how on earth did he get them? they cost a motherfucking fortune.”

“he’s harry styles dad! of course he can get them,” fizzy says rolling his eyes.

“this amount of money is ridiculous to spend on shoes!” exclaims his father. “nine to be specific.”

fizzy points out, “not when you’re _the_ harry styles.” as she admires the blue polka dotted vans.

“and that’s not all,” says his stepfather. louis and lottie glance at him, wondering what he is talking about. “you got two skateboards as well and and fizzy 20 bags of popcorn.”

“yes!” cheers fizzy running into the kitchen and louis makes his way to the door. there he sees to hanged stakeboards hanged against the wall. one has ‘lwt’ engraved on the back in gothic writing and the other ‘ysl’ in a very _harry styles_ sort of way.

“the lwt looks sick son,” says his stepfather patting his back. “suddenly i want to be 19 and a skater.”

“aren’t you 40?,” louis questions, chuckling.

his stepfather fake gasps, clutching his shirt as if he is getting an attack. he then swats his finger in the air in a diva manner stating, “i’ll have you know i’m still young and hip!”


	39. 0.38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and anne have a one-on-one, a rare occasion in the styles' household.

harry quickly ducks his head when his mother throws the bottle of wine at him. he turns around, grumbling underneath his voice, to find his tipsy mother wagging her perfectly manicured index finger his way. she takes a step towards him, wobbling a little, her hand clutching the kitchen counter.

“where do you think you’re going?” she mutters.

“liam’s.”

“you’re not leaving this conversation until you swear on your my mother’s grave that you’re getting back with taylor!”

harry turns around and does not open his mouth. with his brows scrunched in the middle, he listens to his mother talking, her words slurring in between from drinking more than her fair share of the wine bottle.

“stop anne.” he lets out a small gasp as this is a surprise to him. and anne as well who is wide-eyed staring at her son. “just stop.”

“are you talking to your mother like this?” she asks him, her mouth in a fowl scowl. “i didn’t raise a good-for-nothing son that talks back at his own parents. do you know much we have done? what we’ve sacrificed just so you could be who you are today?” her voice is high-pitched, her hands doing theatrics in the air. “do you have any idea?”

“do _you_ have any idea?” he throws back at his mother. all these years he has been holding back but not today, all that ends now, all the chains and anchors. he quickly sees the anger shaking through his mother’s body, her knuckles as white as the kitchen walls.

“do you think more money is going to fix this?” he asks rhetorically. “you think more pounds in my bank account will make me better? or more money in my trust fund, mother?

“how about for once in your life you stop being drunk when talking to me because it would be so nice to talk to you, like a normal person, but you’re either tipsy or drunk, or too hangover to bond with your only son.

“or even being around. you’re never here mother. you’re always partying with your single friends, going on cruise ships across the mediterranean or summat, sipping expensive champagne and complaining how father made you have a child way too early.

“maybe if you spent more time with me, listened to me, took me along whenever you took gemma to shopping trips, or even asked father to take me when he took niall drinking for the first time, teaching niall, instead of me, to drive in father’s favorite ferrari, or teaching him to playing golf or was it tennis? i don’t even give a fook anymore because it’s gone.

“how about being proud of me. i mean i got into harvard fair and square, no dirty tricks, no sexual favors, no bribes, nothing. i got in on my own merit yet you and father disregard that because oh no, dare i break up with taylor! heaven forbid i get a good education from an ivy league because you’d rather me marry the swift name. and by the way, when were you ever going to tell me that if i married her i’d be taking her name? why do you and father want me to be harry swift more than harry styles?”

he takes a sigh glancing at his mother’s unreadable expression on her face. “not new maids, or new cars, more money in my bank account, changing my last name to fit your expectations, new rolex watches or even what you call bonding by drinking a thousand cocktails as i drag your drunken body out of the party, is going to fix me. you won’t get to know me by doing these things because these things aren’t me.”

his mother speechless for the first time in his life. her body is stiff, not moving right, or left, even by a centimeter.

“you know i think this is the longest you and i have ever talked,” he notes blankly.

“bonding,” she says simply. she takes a swig of her wine bottle and walks away from her son and out in the sunny verandah and swings on the hammock. harry lets out a low growl, holding it out until he runs out of breath. he storms out of the kitchen, not noticing mckenzie standing by the kitchen door and takes one of his father’s jaguar’s for a ride on the highway.

his phone dings, a message from louis. it reads:

**LOUIS:** I finally got round to making my Death Star. It looks awesome!!

turns out he had several from him.

**LOUIS:** *attached image file 112KB*

**LOUIS:** This one is better !

**LOUIS:** *attached image 201KB*

**LOUIS:** Yes ! I literally took like 40 photos before making it a perfect photo. CLAP FOR ME STYLES!! I THINK IM TURNING INTO A TYPICAL WHITE GIRL ON INSTAGRAM =D

**LOUIS:** Fizzy said my Death star is a waste of time and humanity. Guess who’s boyfriend is not coming over for a movie tonight?

**LOUIS:** Have you eaten ?

**LOUIS:** I had pasta (surprise surprise) with guess what?

**LOUIS:** OK I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER IM TOO EXCITED TO TELL YOU !!!

**LOUIS:** A BANANA !!!!

**LOUIS:** A FRIGGIN BANANA !! HONESTLY I think I was smiling so hard at the table my dad thought I was high

**LOUIS:** I miss you.

**LOUIS:** I whale you !

**LOUIS:** Yes i just did ! FLING MY BODY OFF THE ENGLAND SHORE BECAUSE I CAN’T BELIEVE I SAID THAT EITHER

**LOUIS:** But really, I miss you.

**LOUIS:** I meant what I told you yesterday, about second chances. AND EVERYTHING ELSE SUNSHINE <3

**LOUIS:** Please don’t shut me out. Not now. Not ever.

**HARRY:** I whale you too.

**LOUIS:** :DDDDDDDDDD

harry throws his phone on the passenger seat and drives into the highway yet again. he presses his foot all the way down on the gas pedal, trying as much as possible to drive away his anger.


	40. 0.39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's phobias taunt him!

just like the previous year, harry is once again a target to everyone in school. by now everyone knows about the haylor break up, and everyone is labeling as harry being on the wrong.

it all starts in the morning when harry makes his way to his chemistry class. it is all well until suddenly he falls of his chair, and someone from behind mutters the words, “fatty” and the class erupts in loud laughter.

at p.e., his locker is broken into meaning someone had access to his p.e. clothes and spray paint all over his shirt and shorts and wetting them. this did not phase him as he had a spare pair in his cadillac. today the sport is hockey and harry groans. he has never been good at hockey and today is not his day when he is hit, repeatedly with the hockey stick on his legs, arms and groin, so many times he puts two and two together and knows something is going on.

the school is in on a joke that he is, once again like last year, not a part of. all the girls snicker behind his back whenever he walks past a group of them, airing out loud at how much of a disgrace he is at dumping taylor. the boys of the school are not charming either, by shoving his shoulders or bumping into him so hard his shoulders keep hitting the wall and the metal lockers.

harry is not one to back down from a challenge although his spirit is shrinking inside of him with each passing hour. in the lunch line, he is trying his level best to ignore the vile comments from the girls behind him as he texts louis.

 **HARRY:** Any knock knock jokes?

harry has never stared harder at his phone, his right hand fingers gripping the edges of his iphone, waiting for louis to text back.

“next!” the lunch lady calls and harry orders for the chicken. “next,” she simply says in her bored voice.

“i ordered for the chicken,” he repeats.

“next!”

“move it styles!” someone in the line shouts.

“don’t keep us waiting all day,” another one groans. harry sends a pleading look to the lunch lady but she remains with her bored look on her face.

at least this time, no food was thrown his way like last year. he understands why the school was against him what with the whole julius fiasco but he does not understand why people hare hating him this year?

what has he done?

he speaks, nay thinks too soon as niall and his clique, mainly the football team and the rugby team, stand before harry’s path.

“no lunch today?” asks niall.

“let me through please,” says harry as calm as possible with his heart racing behind his ribs. despite his broad shoulders and lanky figure, at this point, harry feels small, as small as a frog, and all he wants to do is hop away. away from this school, from his life, from everything.

“how about we make sure you eat lunch?” asks niall and his clique behind him roar in cheer.

“wh-what are you doing?” asks harry, his eyes wandering around him seeing himself get surrounded. next thing he knows he is a dustbin as the rugby team throw their food at him, using him a target board. harry tries to block the different foods aiming for his body, but the more he shields himself, the more he is somehow hit.

he tries to walk off but niall, or someone else, pushes him back in the circle. he eventually shuts it all out from his mind, bringing his knees to his chest and holding himself tightly. eventually they stop throwing food at him and walk away laughing. he gets up, leftover spaghetti and chicken gravy dripping off him. harry walks off, receiving a text from louis with a dumb knock knock joke that he finds funny. as he is changing in his car, he texts louis for more, as a way of distracting himself from the hate he is getting from everyone. not even mckenzie or liam are anywhere to be seen on this fooked up day.

as a new school policy, thrice a year the school holds a sleepover for each grade as a form of building and strengthening friendships through games and other forms of activity. today just happens to be the third year’s night to sleepover in school. harry is only human and people’s patience will eventually run low. earlier harry had found a great spot by the corner of the wall in the large cafeteria and liam promising that him and barbara would both sleep near him.

he walks to his corner, his spirit at an all-time low, also he is avoiding the snickering voices growing louder in volume, picking at him, pulling him down. he gets to his spot to find a mess! his sleep bag is torn in pieces, his bag that had all his clothes and underwear are torn into pieces as if someone run scissors through them and his boots beyond repair. he turns around, finding people sitting in their sleep bags chatting away, others playing board games and lastly his eyes land on taylor, sitting in the middle of a circle of friends. she sends a wink his way, and a playful smirk on her lips.

he clenches his fists together, then unclenches them. he picks what is left of his belongings and dumps them in the dustbin nearby. he grabs his phone out of his pocket and texts his chauffer to come pick him up. then texts louis that he will see him tomorrow.

he has reached his limit.

“where do you think you’re going?”

a shiver flows down harry’s spine. it is niall again, and with the small laughing grunts following he assumes it is the rugby clique.

“blind him!” he hears niall order and his vision is black from a bag being thrown over his face. “now drag his body to the gym locker room. we’re going to enjoy this one boys.” a low cheerful grunt roars among the boys. they lift a protesting harry up on their shoulders and make their way to the gym locker rooms. “we’re going to teach him a lesson of being loyal.”

they hold harry against a pole as they tie his hands behind the pole as well as his feet, before removing his boots and socks.

“garry, do you have the camera ready?” asks niall and garry grunts, “yes.” niall nods and turns back to harry, the black bag still over his head. an evil smirk spreads on his lips when he sees harry squirming against the pole, probably with fear, and it gives niall a huge rush.

he takes off the black bag from harry’s face and the tied-up boy darts his eyes across the locker room, his eyes foggy with confusion and fear. his eyes land back on niall, most importantly, the box in his hands.

“what’s that?” harry asks, his voice trembling. niall sighs loudly in annoyance and orders zedd to put tape across harry’s mouth. niall soon reveals that inside the box are in fact small animals, specifically different types of spiders such as the katipo spider, cabbage white caterpillar, ants, millipedes, and other creepy crawlies that can make anyone shiver. harry lets out a scream but it is muffled because of the tape and all that comes out is a strained scream.

“we’re going to show the world what a wimp styles is,” laughs niall and the gym locker room is filled with low laughter. “who wants me to do it?” shouts niall and cheers erupts. he asks again and louder cheers erupt. “zedd, will you do the honors?”

zedd nods and rips harry’s ysl shirt, reveal his toned chest that is rising up and down rapidly. next zedd unbuckles his belt and yanks harry’s skinny jeans up to his knees leaving him exposed and defenseless to the small crowed in the gym locker rooms.

niall knows that harry is absolutely terrified of spiders, it is in fact one of his phobias, and now he is using this bit of information (that slipped from zayn’s mouth some weeks ago) against harry. he watches harry squirm on the spot, trying to get away from niall as much as he could but only just presses his back into the poll.

he takes a sharp breath through his nose when niall places a somewhat large spider on his chest. and another. and another. soon there are five, large spiders crawling all over his chest. harry is squirming, the thought of not one, not two, but five spiders, his greatest phobia, crawling on his chest, is more than he can take. he cannot control his screams (muffled by the tape), he cannot stop wriggling on the spot as if by some miracle the ropes on his hands and feet shall loosen, or the tears streaming down his face stopping. he shuts his eyes tight, his hands trying to break free but the ropes burn his skin, and he is praying that the spiders will crawl off his body but they do not. he can _feel_ them, itching him, touching him, crawling on him, his red eyes open wide when two of them are getting closer to his face.

“cover his face,” grunts niall, “can’t stand his whiny, crying face.” zedd puts the black bag over harry’s face amidst the tied-boy shaking his head furiously to him, and once again his world is black. “pass the caterpillar.” he takes the creepy a-thousand-legged animal and lays it on harry’s thigh near the ends of his black boxers.

and so it continues, niall asking for a crawling creeper and places it on an empty space along harry’s shivering body. muffled sobs are heard through the bag which are always muffled by the cheers from the boys in the locker room all huddling close to harry as possible, yet far enough in case the spiders somehow get to them.

“i think that’s enough,” zedd says when niall asks for the maggots. “i think he’s learnt his lesson.”

“are you arguing with me?” niall corners zedd. zedd shakes his head. “good, now pass the maggots.”

“look at him niall,” zedd protests. the locker room is now quiet, albeit for muffled sobs from the boy with a black bag over his head. “he’s weak and i think he’s good now. he’s learnt his lesson.”

“unless you want to join him, i suggest you pass me the maggot.”

zedd sighs and hands niall a maggot. “good,” niall says. niall places the maggot on harry’s boxers before his head is behind banged against a locker by liam.

garry with the camera captures the scene: liam picking up niall from the floor and bringing his knuckles to niall’s face, shouting obscene words at him. a few of the rubgy team members depart including garry as well lest someone tells on them to the principle.

“fook you niall,” liam stammers angrily at niall. he lifts him by the shirt and pushes his body against the wall, harder the second time and once more. louis runs in after liam, trisha following through with zayn and gigi.

he stops to see the sore sight before him, a poor harry covered in small animals and his head covered in a black bag. trisha and gigi gasp before the sight, not believing that this had been going on the whole time as the school is out playing games. zayn rushes to liam stopping him from further hurting niall but liam has always been stronger than zayn.

“harry it’s me,” louis says softly, taking off the black bag from his face. louis’ mouth hangs from his jaw at seeing harry, weak and exposed in front of him, his cheeks stained with wet tears and red eyes. louis slowly tears away the tape and loud sobs fill his eardrums.

“take them off please,” harry begs amidst sobs and screams. “please please.”

“let me take off the ropes first.”

“take them off please! i can feel them everywhere,” harry begs, his head lolling around the poll behind him.

“ew! don’t touch it!” gigi squirms.

“trisha!” louis calls out and like their own secret language, trisha nods. she pulls gigi away from harry and they head to where zayn is trying to pull liam off a bloody niall on the floor.

he gulps as he takes one spider into his fingers and places it in the box. he tries his level best from squirming in front of harry, or his fingers shaking as he takes a maggot off his body, or a caterpillar, or some small ant-looking piece of shit running down harry’s v-line. as he is taking off the last spider, he takes a quick glance at harry silently crying now with his eyes tight shut. he closes the box and moves to untie the ropes around his fingers and feet and sliding his pants up and zipping him up.

harry wraps his arms around louis’ shoulders and ugly sobs right there and then, his sobs and screams muffling into louis’ shirt, filling the locker room. louis rubs his back, soothing him, but it seems as if harry’s cries only grow louder and louder.

“harry,” liam calls out softly. they break from their hug but louis’ hand is still clutching around harry’s middle. he hands him one of his shirts for harry to wear. “the principle would like to see you.”

“why the fook does he want to?” cries louis.

“something about your chauffeur,” mumbles liam. turns out, harry’s chauffeur has been here the whole time and due to recent events, and word going round, harry got to go home and louis protesting that he is going as well and the principal simply sighs and lets louis leave the school sleepover.

 

back in harry’s house, he draws up a bath for harry, his large bathroom fogged with an apple scent. louis gives him a hug before he falls into the bubble bath and enjoys himself. louis rums through harry’s walk-in-closet and he is in awe. on one end there are rows and rows of shirts in all colors, fabrics and designs. on the other end are jeans, to be specific, skinny black jeans. he laughs to himself because he always thought that harry had _one_ black skinny jean yet here are rows of them.

“what are you doing?” asks harry. louis turns around and his eyes go straight to harry’s v-lines disappearing down by his towel tied around his waist. “my eyes are up here.”

louis rolls his eyes playfully. he turns on his heels saying, “i’m surprised you have more than one skinny jean. i expected more girl shirts though.”

“they aren’t girl shirts.” harry lets out a sigh. “they are exclusive gucci shirts. and then in that row,” he points to the corner of the other closet, “are the ysl, mango,” he points to another spot in his walk-in closet, “and burberry ones.”

“why gucci?”

“because they make silk shirts that are unisex,” he says shrugging. he is now dressed in sweatpants (louis cannot stop gaping at the fact that he owns sweatpants) and a simple black shirt (again, louis gapes at it). “remove that surprise off your face,” harry says rolling his eyes and walking to his king-sized bed, “because i do have…why are you still in the closet?”

“i came out,” louis winks, a big smile creeping up on his face. it takes a while before harry gets it and he lets out a throaty laugh. he walks back to his large, humongous closet and sits on the floor besides louis. they are both in one of the rows where harry’s line of burberry shirts and feathering their hairs and shoulders, their backs against the white, brick wall.

after a few moments of silence, harry notes that, “i’ve never actually sat in here before,” looking around at his countless shirts, “and that i do have many shirts that i don’t even need.”

“you do need them,” louis says also staring at one silky, red one. “you’re the harry styles, the fashion icon with odd taste in designer shirts and cars.”

“sometimes i wish i didn’t like that,” mumbles harry. “sometimes i wish i was like you, or anyone else.”

“why?”

“then i didn’t have to put too much effort into my dressing. i mean i do like dressing up, buying clothes and stuff but it sometimes gets to a point where i feel like i’m competing for the best dressed.” he picks on the bumps on his sweatpants. “it always feels...felt like that when i dated taylor. times i would want to just wear a normal, plain shirt to school and she literally threatened to dump me. another time i wore converse shoes and it was a disaster. another time i—”

“stop,” louis says firmly. “stop. you’re not with taylor, you’re not that person. you need to dress how you want to dress. i can see dressing is something you truly love, a little too much for me, but you still do and don’t let taylor, chuck bass, or the school force you to change it into a chore.” he leans in close to his ears. “i like it when you wear sweatpants anyway.”

harry blushes under louis whisper, chuclkling lightly. “tell me something.”

solemnly louis tells him, “i’m sorry.”

“for?”

“niall and the locker rooms and for not answering your texts faster.”

“i’m fine.”

louis lifts his head off harry’s shoulder and kisses below his jawline. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s fin—i… i don’t want to think about it,” harry mumbles before adding, “tell me something.”

“like what?”

“a story.” he folds his knees and wraps his arms around his legs. “you know about me and julius, and now that you know me, everything about me, and i hope you don’t run from me.”

“i would not because there’s so much more to know about you, sunshine.” louis scoots closer to harry and lays his head on his broad shoulder after kissing his the spot near his earlobe. “and i don’t care what happened with the julius thing. i’m just sorry it happened.”

“so tell me something about you,” harry pesters on, “something not even liam knows.”

louis adjusts his head on harry’s broad shoulder and begins, “one time when i was dating eleanor, she brought her bestfriend max….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that is probably harry's hat closet AHAHAHA


	41. 0.40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis takes harry for shopping to make him feel better... and after for harry's first time of curly fries.

niall grabs taylor by shoulders turning her around before they both walk into mrs maths class. “you need to tell everyone the truth. i’m out here looking like a bad guy.”

“it wasn’t my idea to put spiders on harry,” taylor points out, folding her arms across her chest. “that was cruel, even for you.”

“you told me to scare him a little.”

“by putting spiders and other creepy shits on his body?” questions taylor. “i saw the video and it’s disgusting.”

“we are on the same team here,” niall tells taylor, “we’re both trying to knock some sense into harry so he gets back with you and restore order in this dumb school. i can’t do that when you act as if we are not on the same team.”

“we are,” she says brazenly, “we are just not on the same train.” niall scrunches his brows in confusion. “i am on the train heading to get harry’s trust back because that’s what harry’s into, forgiveness and crap like that. you, on the other hand, are making his life miserable which he will forgive you for it, but you’ll be the bad guy in all of this.”

“harry won’t believe you!”

“at this point he doesn’t trust any of us but he will trust me more than he trust you in the end,” taylor seethes through her teeth. “rumors are going round that you ordered everyone not to talk to harry, you paid the lunch staff not to give harry food, to bully him about his sexuality and body, and you crashed his favourite jaguar….”

“you told me to do that!” niall half-screams at her. his cheeks are red from anger. how could taylor be throwing him under the bus? not now when his mission of isolating harry is finally working. “you told me to isolate harry from everyone and now you’re throwing me out? what the fook tay?”

taylor smirks in a coquettish manner. “you know i’m the craziest bitch in this school, why are you surprised?

“you’re a witch!” niall spits.

taylor smirks. “you should know this is what happens by now… hi louis.”

niall turns his head to see louis donning his usual tank top walking towards them. he does not say a word but rather he walks past them and into class. he scans the room, loud chattering in place, and spots harry sitting on the class couch that mrs maths had put one time in class insisting that it felt good to lay your head down once in a while when the day was dragging on and on.

harry looks up from his book to find louis standing before him in all black, apart from his plaid green vans. he instantly lights up, standing to hug him. “as always you smell like lemons,” he notes, squeezing louis’ middle.

they both sit back down, a choir of chats above them. harry turns to face him, a grin spreading on his face until his dimples show and there are crinkles by the corners of his eyes. louis raises an eyebrow at him.

“what are you smiling so hard at?”

“you,” he beams, “you’re sitting here with me unlike everyone else who’s been banned from talking to me by niall.”

“what about liam?” asks louis. he props his feet on the couch sitting criss cross near harry.

“he’s trying to win barbara over and she and taylor are friends so that makes him one of the people.”

“but you’re friends!”

“haven’t you done everything for the one you like?” questions harry.

“not when it involves tearing your friendships!” exclaims louis. “and zayn?”

“in with the ban. along with gigi.”

“mckenzie?”

“she flew to brazil for the week with chuck bass,” says harry. “if she was here, there’d be two people who would be talking to me right now.”

rummaging through his back pack, louis says, “i got something for you.” he holds out a small package wrapped in newspaper with too much duct tape. “i’m a rubbish wrapper,” he shrugs.

“clearly. you know that there are stores that wrap presents.”

“open it,” he insists. harry sticks his tongue out while unwrapping the tiny package between his hands. “how m-much tape did you use?” he mutters struggling to remove the tape.

“it’s part of the fun,” winks louis watching harry’s eyebrows crowd on his forehead as he picks out the duct tape but it is indeed hard. “maybe i did wrap it too hard.”

“finally!” exclaims harry and a few classmates turn around to gaze at them and continue to chattering away. he unwraps the newspaper and inside is a silver ring in the form of a crown. “what is it?”

“it’s a ring.”

harry rolls his eyes. “no shit!”

“then why did you ask?”

“you know what i mean, what is it?”

“it’s a king’ crown,” says louis, holding it close to his hand. “one time you were at the horse thing remember? and i told you that you’re a king, because you are.” he slips the ring on harry’s middle finger. “you’ll always be a king no matter what, or who, comes your way.”

harry spreads his fingers, admiring the new ring. “thank you,” he whispers. “i love it.” he turns to louis. “i whale you.”

“i whale you too,” louis chuckles. mrs maths walks into class, holding several papers in her small hands and her usual, worn out brown briefcase under her armpit. “where were you sitting?”

“next to you,” harry mumbles in a low voice. louis nods and they sit a row behind gigi and zayn. they take out their notepads and pens (louis asking for a blue pen as he forgot his pencil case at home) dotting down the key topics that mrs maths will bring for the english midterm.

“louis?” she says and it comes out as a question. she picks up her class register and looks up again. “what are you doing here?”

“what do you mean?” asks louis.

“you aren’t in my class anymore,” she says, “you were transferred to mrs gold’s class as of this morning. did you not get a notification on your email?”

louis shakes his head. “no-no i didn’t.”

**_ _ _**

harry pockets out his phone, lifting his leg and leaning it against the wall behind him. he is not really doing anything on his phone, he is trying his best to ignore the chatter of girls near him, talking about him. they are talking of the latest rumors that there is a video of harry that was filmed by the rugby boys and it is out there, somewhere. turns out, from what he is hearing, everyone is on the hunt for the video.

“i’d love to see those abs,” the one with long black hair says, eyeing harry standing by the wall.

“i’d love to see him squirm under just an _ant_ ,” mocks another. the rest of the group laugh loudly so that harry can hear them. “it was honestly an ant and i heard that he started bawling.”

“who knew big ol’ harry has always been a scared cat,” laughs the one with black hair.

“i don’t even know what taylor saw in harry,” laughs a new girl in the group, “i’m glad that taylor ended it with that wimp.”

the door besides him opens and the girls walk away when their friends come out of the class. louis comes into view, walking with his group of friends, probably the football team harry guesses. he opens his mouth to say something but something about the way louis laughs along with his mates, the glitter in his eyes and the crinkles accompanying them, he keeps his lips shut.

he does not call louis, wondering if perhaps louis prefers to spend his time with his football friends rather than him, and instead pushes himself off the wall , following the girls that were making fun of him. he makes his way down the hall when he sees liam and barbara, whispering to each other, liam’s hands on her slim waist. barbara eyes harry and pokes liam’s shoulders. liam turns around, harry still walking down the hallway, and they both stare at each other. harry breaks a smile on his lips and liam turns away, burying his face in barbara’s neck.

 

harry slams his back against a tree and slides down it and pockets out his phone to text mckenzie.

 **HARRY:** How’s Brazil?

 **K:** Chuck is WAAY TOOOOO ROMANTIC.

 **HARRY:** What’s he done now? J

 **HARRY:** Thanks for not typing IN CAPITAL!

 **K:** Well we were couped up in his father’s hotel empire. Then he said that he bought a yacht by the beach so that’s where we’ve been staying

 **K:** Remind me why we’ve never been to Brazil!?!?!?!?!?

 **HARRY:** It’s far.

 **K:** So is Australia genius, yet we still go there from time to time.

 **HARRY:** Send a picture of the yacht!

 **K:** How’s school? What’s new?

 **HARRY:** Same old same old. Niall put a ban on everyone to NOT talk to me.

 **K:** I saw the video ):

 **HARRY:** HOW?

 **K:** It was sent to me anonymously. Haven’t you seen it?

 **HARRY:** Nobody’s seen the video apart from you and the rugby lads that were in that locker room. I haven’t seen it. Nor has Taylor or she would have laughed about it in my face.

 **K:** I’m sorry they did that to you. I know how much you hate spiders.

 **HARRY:** I don’t want to talk about it.

 **HARRY:** Sometimes I get a random shiver because I can still feel them on my body.

 **K:** I heard Louis in the video, what happened?

 **HARRY:** He took them all off. I could see he was terrified but he still took all the shitfaces off me. He took me home, run me a bubble bath, and we sat in the closet J

 **K:** Sat?

 **HARRY:** Yeah we literally JUST sat in there. It was awesome actually.

 **K:** That’s all that happened?

 **HARRY:** I can see the smirk from HERE K! We didn’t do anything that you’re thinking off!!

 **K:** I think it’s time.

 **K:** REMOVE THE CONDOMS, THE PETALS, THE LUBES, AND THE LOTIONS

 **K:** LARRY SEX SHOULD BE HAPPENING.

 **HARRY:** Go away K!

 **HARRY:** Liam’s not talking to me L

 **K:** He texted me. He wants you to know he’s sorry.

 **HARRY:** I expect this from Zayn, Niall (obviously), Taylor, Kendall, the WHOLE SCHOOL but not Liam.

 **K:** You know how Barbara is….

 **HARRY:** The good news is that this has happened to me before with the Julius thing, so I just have to wait until the ban is off.

 **K:** So 9 months huh? Seems long!

 **HARRY:** Hopefully no more spiders and cockroaches on my body.

 **K:** All because you dumped Tay so the whole school is pissed off? Seems odd that Niall is more bitter about this than Taylor.

 **HARRY:** I don’t even know anymore. I stopped caring a long time.

 **K:** Why are you texting me? Shouldn’t you be with loverboy?

 **HARRY:** Rolling my eyes so hard at you now

 **K:** Don’t care.

 **HARRY:** He went off with his football crew.

 **K:**??????

 **HARRY:** I feel as if he’ll be happier if he’s with his other friends than me.

 **K:** What are you on about? Louis is extremely happy to be with you! Don’t fill your brain with all these stupid worries because of Niall’s ban.

 **HARRY:** But it’s true. He was super happy about being with them. He was glowing with happiness and all.

 **K:** LOUIS LIKES YOU AS MUCH AS YOU DO!! HARRY STOP DOUBTING YOURSELF!

 **K:** JUST BECAUSE NOBODY WAS THERE FOR YOU APART FROM ME DURING THE JULIUS CASE DOESN’T MEAN NOBODY IS NOW. LOUIS IS HERE! HE ISN’T FOLLOWING THE BAN EITHER BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU.

 **HARRY:** Speak of the Devil, and he appears.

 **K:** IS HE HERE?

 **HARRY:** He’s walking towards me. Talk later?

 **K:** Of course. Love you baby.

 **HARRY:** Love you too genius J

 

“you disappeared!” says louis when he reaches to where harry is sitting by the tree. he sits near him holding two apples, yoghurt and a water bottle. “i know about the lunch incident,” he explains. “plus the cafeteria ran out of bananas.”

“it’s all niall,” says harry. “at least i’ll reach by body weight now.”

“you look marvelous the way you are,” smiles louis. “now, which one first?”

“apple please,” chuckles harry. he takes it and takes a large bite off it. louis takes his own yoghurt and dips a straw in it.

“i tried looking at why i was transferred but i didn’t find out,” louis tells him, the straw brushing his lips.

“don’t bother,” harry tells him. he takes the yoghurt from louis grasp and sips some of it. louis can feel his cheeks heat up as he watches harry’s cheeks hollow, his lips around the straw. “the school won’t tell you why because niall must have had his father make some donation to the school or summat.”

“like a bribe?” asks louis sipping yoghurt from the same straw. harry shrugs as he takes the last bite of the first apple. “i heard about the rumors, i’m sorry people think of you as that.”

“you think i’m a king,” says harry, glancing down at his finger with the ring, “that’s all i need.”

“how can you live through it all though?” wonders louis.

“i’ve been through crap before,” harry says with a tired tone that hints there have been too many incidents in his past. “nothing new.”

“after school you and i are going shopping!” louis attempts to cheer harry. “your shirts were all ripped and you need new ones.”

“did you not sit in my walk-in closet for close to an hour and see all my shirts? i don’t need new shirts.”

“liam says shopping always makes you feel better,” says louis, watching harry’s lips curl around the water bottle opening. “a-and that’s what you and i will do.”

“together?” asks harry.

“that’s what you and i means.”

“thank you,” he whispers and louis shushes him by shoving an apple into his hand. instead harry takes louis yoghurt and once again sips through the same straw louis had been chewing on.

 

“look at all these shirts!” exclaims harry almost screeching. “these are all shirts men want to wear!”

“not really,” louis says rolling his eyes from the couch. they have already been to gucci (of course it is the first one harry suggests), mango, burberry and now they are in ysl for close to 52 minutes now. surrounding louis are multiple shopping bags, most of them containing two items of clothing which louis thinks defeats the purpose of a large bag if it will only have two items of clothing than, say, ten.

harry’s mood suddenly changed, louis notices, when they finally found the see-through men’s button-up shirts he has been looking for since _forever_. he can feel the glow from harry’s body when he is now in the changing room, yanking one see-through shirt off his shoulders and wearing the other one, all done in lightning speed.

“it’s not like the shirts are going away!” chuckles louis, lifting one of the shirts off the floor. “calm down!”

“someone might walk in this ysl store and buy them. i have to try them all before someone buys them but i don’t know which ones i want!”

“take five or something.”

“five?” asks harry not hearing louis properly. “you want me to take five?”

“okay fine. ten.”

“ten?” again harry does not believe that the boy in a tank top is even suggesting that he only takes almost a dozen of shirts from ysl. “ten only? are you high?”

louis rolls his eyes and joins harry on the floor with the plenty of shirts that he has tried already and yet many more are hanging on the wall of the changing room. he joins him on the floor, insisting that he should pick some shirts, as many as possible, so that they can make it to the other designer stores.

“i don’t know which ones,” says harry, his eyes darting at the shirts on the floor, and then the ones hanging on the wall. “so many choices.”

“we’ve been at this for hours asshead,” he groans loudly. “okay let’s make a deal: pick 15 only.”

“i just want shirts that other people will like,” confesses harry. he dares not look louis’ way.

“screw them styles! you pick shirts that you like. no more thinking about if some assholes and bitches in our school will like them or not. this is all you and you alone.” harry fish-mouths and then smiles. “plus all this shopping has made me tired.”

“i’ll pick 13 shirts that i like and you pick two that you like,” insists harry. louis nods mumbling a, “fine, you’ve got a deal,” and a deal they have. walking out of the store with ridiculous amounts of shopping bags, harry calls his chauffeur to come pick up the bags. they leave them at the store, with instructions given to sandra (the shopping assistant at ysl).

they make their way to a small café in the mall, and seat themselves in a booth with green leather seats. harry’s jolly mood is still on after their shopping spree and even more so when he lets louis do the ordering seeing as he does not frequent cafes, only high-end restaurants that did not serve _curly fries, chicken fingers and soft drinks._

“these curly fries are amazing,” harry moans as he chews on the curly fries dipped in bbq sauce. “i can’t believe i’ve never had some.”

louis simply laughs, watching harry dip his curly fry into the bbq sauce, and disappear between his lips. then harry’s eyebrows furrow in the middle, his jaw moving tenderly beneath his olive skin and finally his adam’s apple jiggling swallowing down his fries.

“you’re staring,” harry notes and louis tears his eyes away from harry. his index finger tips his chin, louis’ gaze once again on harry. “don’t look away, i find it adorable.”

“cocky styles.”

“c-can i ask… you… something?” asks harry, hesitation in his voice. louis takes a sip of his sprite, nodding for harry to go on. “you can say no if you want, you really don’t… i mean i’m serious that you can say… i am enjoying myself.” he takes a couple of curly fries and stuffs his mouth with them. “i’ve never had curly fries.”

louis puts his drink down and turns all his attention to him. “i don’t mind. what do you wanna ask me?”

“i… uh.” harry is at a loss of words. he plays with his curly fries, swirling it around his bbq sauce avoiding all eye contact with louis. “i was thinking if-if that’s okay with you, if we,” he takes a deep breath, “can, uh.” his eyes watch the hand on his own thigh. “can i kiss you?” he asks bluntly.

louis’ eyebrows raise to the tip of his hairline. “what?”

“i want to kiss, uh, you,” says harry unsure now. he is feeling stupid for asking and regrets the words coming out of his mouth. “i’m sorry for asking. i should… should not even be… but, um, do you feel hot? it’s really hot in here.” he raises his voice to call the waiter, “waiter.”

“stop,” louis says, pulling harry’s hand down, and shakes his head at the waiter. “stop. it’s fine, i don’t mind that you asked.”

“so you do-don’t mind kissing me?” asks harry shyly. he feels the blunt fingers of louis hand trailing up his neck, his stomach turning inside itself. louis takes his other hand with his harry’s own, squeezing it lightly when harry’s lips brush his own.

harry’s eyes flutter shut, lowering his head down and lightly touching louis’ rosy lips. he feels his heart make a flip when louis presses his lips to his firmly. harry’s mind gets foggy and racy ranting _louisiskissingmelouisiskissingmeholycraplouisisfookingkissingme_. louis grips behind his neck tighter pressing their lips even more and harry swears louis is his new favorite taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dramatically sighs*  
> if only....


	42. 0.41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and mckenzie text the entire sunday.

** **

**K:** What do you mean you kissed him?

 **HARRY:** He pressed his lips on mine.

 **K:** WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

 **HARRY:** I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!!

 **K:** LOUIS!!!!!

 **HARRY:** MCKENZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

 **K:** Is he a good kisser? Are his hands soft? What are do those sexy thin lips do?

 **HARRY:** He is ^.^ He’s brilliant!

 **HARRY:** Not answering that K -.-

 **K:** Then what happened!! Did you kiss more?

 **HARRY:** No! I would’ve cummed right there and then if he did.

 **K:** AHAHAH TYPICAL HARRY

 **HARRY:** NO! I’m not usually but ugh, it’s Louis.

 **K:** And Julius ;}

 **K:** I think you have a thing for guys with big cocks. Remember Liam?

 **HARRY:** Shit! That was good sex!!

 **K:** You got hard every morning after that ;)

 **HARRY:** OMG K! STOP!! It’s all LOUIS LOUIS LOUIS now not LIAM!

 **K:** How’s his cock? SUCKED IT YET?

 **HARRY:** WTF!

 **K:** Step 1: kiss

 **K:** Step 2: suck his dick :}

 **HARRY:**.----.

 **K:** What did he say about the Julius thing?

 **HARRY:** Nothing.

 **K:** Nothing?

 **HARRY:** He told me that that was in the past & whatever mistakes we make in the past we learn from them and move on.

 **K:** He’s the first person who did not want to know about Julius?!

 **HARRY:** He also saw the video. Niall showed him. And Trisha too.

 **K:** Yet again I have never been able to see the video !!!1

 **K:** I CALL THE BEST FRIEND FAIL!!!

 **HARRY:** Taylor & Niall have it hidden somewhere and to be honest, I don’t want to watch it either. Niall showed Julius the video and Julius cried that night when he told me it was all filmed so I didn’t want to see it.

 **K:** :’{

 **HARRY:** But Louis seemed normal. Fine even.

 **K:** Maybe because he’s done worse?

 **HARRY:** Who knows! He told me about Eleanor’s BFF escapades.

 **K:** Who is Eleanor??????

 **HARRY:** His ex-girlfriend that outed him to the whole school.

 **K:** When? :O I don’t remember that!

 **HARRY:** Me neither, but apparently it happened sometime in Freshmen Year.

 **K:** So what happened with the ex’s BFF?

 **HARRY:** I swore secrecy, K.

 **K:** C’mon it’s me :}

 **HARRY:** Nope. Not telling.

 **HARRY:** Maybe if you came back soon, I just might if you get me drunk.

 **K:** I know you won’t BUT I am coming back tomorrow. Sleep off the jetlag so see you Wednesday…?

 **HARRY:** Can’t wait! I miss our pedicures.

 **HARRY:** And adventures! We should go on one on Wednesday.

 **K:** Don’t you have your weekly Wednesday froyos with Louis?

 **HARRY:** We tried all the flavours so I’m coming up with something new we can do every Wednesday. Still clueless!

 **K:** Fooking shit! What a horrible idea. You’re probably gonna tell me shopping or summat.

 **HARRY:** Can you believe HE HATES SHOPPING?!

 **K:** WTF!! WHO THE SHIT HATES SHOPPING?! >:[

 **HARRY:** That’s what I said. & then he just laughed it off like it was nothing.

 **HARRY:** NOTHING K!!

 **K:** Well you take shopping to a whole new level so I’m with Louis on this one.

 **K:** Speaking of, where is he?

 **HARRY:** Church.

 **K:** Today is Sunday?!

 **HARRY:** Chuck Bass fooks so good you forget the days of the week?

 **K:** Shut up!

 **K:** FYI yes he does ;]

 **K:** Are you still waiting for him? Shouldn’t he be out of church by now?

 **HARRY:** Yes. People are coming out now THANKFULLY!! I run out of gummy worms literally five minutes into the Mass.

 **K:** Maybe one day you should go to church and see what he does in there.

 **HARRY:** He prays. Or something. I don’t know what people do in church.

 **K:** Harry Atheist Styles.

 **HARRY:** I believe in a higher power than us & that’s as far as religion goes for me.

 **HARRY:** Gotta go, he’s walking to the car.

 **K:** Which one did you pick him up in today?

 **HARRY:** Bentley. He seems to like it best :]]]]]]

 **HARRY:** Something about some footballer in Manchester City having the same car.

 **K:** DIDN’T YOU GET HIS NAME?

 **HARRY:** When he talks about football I switch off tbh .---.

 **K:** :O

 **K:** He takes you shopping and you doze off the moment he mentions football?!

 **HARRY:** It’s boring!!

 **K:** HARRY EDWARD STYLES! To get the dick, you gotta pay attention to whatever Louis says.

 **HARRY:** Going offline!

 **K:** Wednesday ?

 **HARRY:** I promise!

 **K:** Love you. Say hi to Louis baby for me :*

 **HARRY:** I will :]]]]

 **HARRY:** Love you genius.

 

 

 **Harry:** I think I’m gonna make my mother get me a trampoline. I miss them :’(

 **K:** Why are you still texting me? Aren’t you with Louis?

 **HARRY:** I am. He said that his mother is having a brunch thing & so now we are all here in his tiny house.

 **K:** Tiny? Honestly, he does not live in a tiny house. I’ve been there, remember?

 **HARRY:** People from school are here :/

 **K:** Liam the jackass?

 **HARRY:** The very one.

 **K:** I don’t get how the whole school can get in on the stupid ban of not talking to you because of the Haylor breakup that Niall set. People in our school can at times be wankshafts!

 **K:** How the bloody hell is Liam even following this ban?

 **HARRY:** He’s dating Barbara & she doesn’t want to get on Taylor’s bad side which automatically means Liam is also on the ban just to impress her.

 **K:** She’s a fooking loser anyway! She’s a cunt and she will leave Liam as soon as she is bored with him.

 **K:** TWO WEEKS TOPS!

 **HARRY:** *attached image 203KB*

 **K:** Is that a flower crown? WHO ARE THOSE KIDS?

 **HARRY:** Louis’ sisters: Daisy & Phoebe. Adorable aren’t they? >.>

 **K:** Why would you use pink flowers? WHAT HAPPENED TO YELLOW FLOWERS??

 **HARRY:** They don’t have yellow flowers. & Daisy likes the pink ones.

 **K:** How many are you making anyway?? I see like 3588549 in the back…

 **HARRY:** Oh. Apparently it’s for Phoebe’s class project to make flower crowns. I think it’s really for her friends though.

 **K:** Why aren’t you with Louis?

 **HARRY:** He invited people from school for the brunch & I’m not in the mood to pretend that we are all friends when tomorrow at school we’ll all be ignoring each other like usual.

 **K:** You can’t blame him for inviting his friends. Liam is practically part of the Tomlinson family.

 **HARRY:** How do you know this?

 **K:** LIMA BEAN & I ARE BROS NOW ;}

 **HARRY:** Saddest thing I’ve read all day. & that is after I read the Gucci fashion show has been cancelled!!

 **K:** WHAT?!

 **K:** I BOUGHT A FOOKING DRESS FOR THE SHOW!! WHY ! THE ! FOOK ! WOULD ! THEY!

 **HARRY:** Something about the venue .---.

 **K:** Let’s go for the Burberry one on Saturday then?!

 **HARRY:** It’s a date <3

 **HARRY:** NOW I’VE GOT TO GO SHOPPING :DDDDD

 **K:** You just love excuses to go shopping don’t you?

 

 

 **K:** HELLO?

 **K:** DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING?!

 **K:** *attached image file 212KB*

 **K:** *attached image file 222KB*

 **K:** *attached image file 256KB*

 **K:** *attached image file 249KB*

 **HARRY:** I WANT THE BOOTS!! THE WYATT BROWN BOOTS!!

 **K:** Great. Cause I bought all of them anyway :}

 **HARRY:** You didn’t have to. I would’ve bought them myself.

 **K:** *attached image 203KB*

 **K:** I WANTED TO DOLTFACE. YOU DESERVE THE WHOLE YSL STORE.

 **HARRY:** LOOK AT THE DETAIL ON THOSE BLACK BOOTS!!! I THINK I JUST SHIT MY PANTS!!

 **HARRY:** *dies*

 **K:** GROSS! It’s just boots.

 **HARRY:** Boots are awesome. You don’t understand. Even Elvis Presley wore boots :* #legend!!

 **K:** -_-

 **K:** Now I’M going offline!

 **K:** I hope Louis isn’t a fan of Elvis.

 **HARRY:** :O HOW DARE YOU K!!

 **HARRY:** But he isn’t. He doesn’t like him :\

 **K:** CHEERS!!! YES!!! THE FIRST DECENT GUY YOU MEET WHO DOESN’T ELVIS!

 **HARRY:** Or pretends* to like Elvis

 **K:** Who did?

 **HARRY:** Did you forget Samantha? Or Michelle? Maggie? Brenda? Whitney? Jonathan? Julius? Becca? Or the fake Adele girl?

 **K:** Honestly how did she think we would believe that she is Adele’s sister?!

 **HARRY:** Gotta go! His mother is giving a toast.

 **K:** Don’t get drunk xx

 

 

 **HARRY:** I only drank one glass of wine the whole time.

 **K:** VERY PROUD!!

 **HARRY:** Louis’ friends are gone but Liam’s still around .---.

 **K:** It’s like 9 in London right? Shouldn’t he be leaving?

 **HARRY:** It’s fine. I’m choosing a storybook to read Daisy and Phoebe for bedtime.

 **K:** Remember when my mother used to do that with us?

 **HARRY:** We’d cuddle WAAAY before our bed time and she would find us half-asleep as we waited for her to read us the same book over and over again .---.

 **K:** Beauty and the Beast is the greatest book ever!

 **HARRY:** Then everything went to shit!

 **K:** My parents were drunks.

 **HARRY:** My father wished Niall was his son.

 **K:** My father used to hit me when my mother was not around

 **HARRY:** My mother would recoil when she hugged me, calling me needy.

 **K:** I would sleepover at your place more than my own

 **HARRY:** My mother got drunk one time and said she wished she never had children

 **K:** I went to rehab for six months trying to get my father to love me.

 **HARRY:** I bought EVERYTHING in five YSL stores after I found out Taylor had been sleeping with Niall for three months.

 **K:** Then you burnt all the clothes and shoes!! What a waste. I loved the jeans you bought!!

 **HARRY:** My father told Gemma & I we won’t be part of his business nor own it when we’re older. Niall will if he ever wanted.

 **K:** You know he will just because.

 **HARRY:** I know. I realized my relationship with Taylor was a business deal and not based on love. She even laughed at me when I told her I loved her.

 **K:** My parents got divorced :{

 **K:** I’ve been sad since I was 13.

 **HARRY:** I’ve been suicidal since I was 15.

 **K:** And we’re best friends.

 **HARRY:** Forever <3

 

**K:** I can see you’re online!! GO TO BED!! It should be 2AM in London!!!!

 **HARRY:** I forgot about the History assignment due tomorrow! .---.

 **K:** -_________-

 **HARRY:** Don’t blame me!!! LOUIS MAKES ME HAVE AMNESIA ABOUT LIFE!

 **K:** \--_________--

 **HARRY:** UGHHHH !! I could literally just tell Cathy to do my work for me and then I’ll sleep.

 **K:** Who’s Cathy now?

 **HARRY:** My History partner. I’m meant to write the conclusion of what she’s done and she bloody wrote 16 pages !!

 **HARRY:** WTF!

 **K:** And you’re crying over a conclusion?

 **HARRY:** I’VE GOT A LOT ON MY MIND!

 **HARRY:** LEAVE ME ALONE.

 **K:** LIKE WHAT?

 **HARRY:** STOP TYPING CAPS!

 **K:** ONLY WHEN YOU DO!!

 **HARRY:** Well, Louis thought I was sleeping in his basement but I wasn’t. He was playing FIFA when his mother came over and they got to talking and all. She thinks I’m nice because of the wine :]

 **K:** Moving on…

 **HARRY:** Then she said that Liam told her about Louis getting fired as the captain of the football team. Then Louis said that it was worth it. I wondered what he was talking about then I remembered it’s the whole locker room incident – he punched Niall, Niall told someone in the school, and he gets kicked out as the football captain because of ME!

 **K:** Who’s the new captain?

 **HARRY:** It should’ve been Niall but it’s Nick.

 **HARRY:** Gotta love democracy at times :}

 **K:** The coke addict?

 **HARRY:** Those are the rumors. You & I know he isn’t an addict we just made him appear to be an addict.

 **K:** The whole school knows he IS an addict and nobody cares for the truth anyhow! People love rumors.

 **K:** But you know Louis doesn’t mind that he stood up for you in front of Niall. I mean he isn’t following Niall’s ban anyhow…

 **HARRY:** True, but I’m thinking of asking Taylor for help :/

 **K:** WHY?! You know NOTHING comes for free after asking that witch bitch for a favour. Ask Liam.

 **HARRY:** Liam’s on the ban. And I’m not talking to HIM either.

 **HARRY:** It’s not a big deal. I mean, I’m the one who’s received the worst of the worst of Taylor’s favours so what else can she do to me? Ruin my dear Dr Styles’ company?

 **K:** Maybe?

 **HARRY:** Well until then….

 **K:** So you just listened to the whole conversation between Louis and his mother? Pretending to sleep?

 **HARRY:** I was singing Elvis Presley songs in my head too….

 **K:** \--______--

 **K:** Why are you honestly a fan?

 **HARRY:** How do you summarize a 16-page research paper on about Winston’s take on the Iron Curtain?????????????

 **K:** Just ask Cathy to do the conclusion as well, she’ll be more than happy to do it for the Harry Styles ;}

 **K:** Sometimes I think you enjoy being the Harry Styles with the hot bod!!

 **HARRY:** Sometimes, not always. And I think I will.

 **HARRY:** I haven’t gotten laid in a while .---.

 **K:** Cathy? NO!

 **K:** Louis baby? YES!

 **HARRY:** Nope.

 **K:** I heard you jerking off to him once.

 **HARRY:** That was bloody ONCE! The day he got me off when he was washing my hair.

 **K:** Honestly that is the weirdest thing you two have done.

 **HARRY:** His hands are so soft :]

 **HARRY:** “I’m gonna stick like glue, stick because I’m stuck on you”

 **K:** \--______--

 **HARRY:** “Cause once I catch you and the kissing starts, a team of wild horses couldn’t tear us apart!”

 **K:** \--______--

 **HARRY:** “I’m gonna stick like glue, YEAH YEAH, because I’m stuck on you!”

 **K:** I’M GOING OFFLINE!!

 **HARRY:** “Squeeze you tighter than a grizzly bear.”

 **K:** Is that what you do with Louis?

 **HARRY:** *heart eyes* Yes.

 **K:** Sing him Elvis songs?

 **HARRY:** What? No! Hug him. I like his hugs the best. Actually his kisses on my jaw are the best, then his hugs, then his laugh, then his hands ;], then his arse <3

 **HARRY:** FOOKING ASS !!

 **K:** Wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve touched it! Taken a photo of it! Jerked to images of it in his tight black jeans…

 **HARRY:** Stop!

 **K:** Getting hard ? With his tight ass jeans grinding on your already hard dick…

 **HARRY:** You will not make me jerk off to him tonight.

 **K:** His hot breath on your cock, already leaking when he’s barely touched you…

 **HARRY:** NOT JERKING OFF!

 **K:** *heavy breathing* His thumb grazing on your leaking cock as he licks your sweaty balls…

 **HARRY:** sotP

 **HARRY:** tosp

 **HARRY:** STOP

 **K:** Jerking off are you?

 **HARRY:** MCKENZIE GO AWAAAAYYYY!! You and Cathy both go away!

 **K:** What does she want now?

 **HARRY:** Screw this Winston and his stupid curtain! I’m just going to wine and dine Cathy for doing the whole assignment by herself.

 **K:** When will girls at school learn that Harry’s ‘wine and dine’ is code for ‘hit and quit it’?

 **HARRY:** Everybody wants a taste of the Styles peacock ;]

 **K:** How many girls at the end of Harry’s wine and dine, fall in love with you?

 **HARRY:** All :] It’s the Styles’ charm.

 **K:** After you fook them you know they’ll hang on to you like a leech. Or a grizzly bear? ;}

 **HARRY:** Did you just use one of Elvis’ songs? I think my heart just came ;]

 **K:** BYE!

 **HARRY:** Well it’s 2:44 and I’ll be up in a couple of hours, so I’ll see you Wednesday still?

 **K:** Yeah! Can’t wait for Burberry on Saturday.

 **HARRY:** What’s our theme?

 **K:** Let’s go with lace you dolt.

 **K:** Obssessed* dolt

 **HARRY:** I love yOU

 **K:** You’d love Louis tongue on your dick.

 **HARRY:** And you too ;]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rest in peace, and love, muhammad ali !


	43. 0.42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry talk of musical tales.

harry runs his long fingers through his shoulder-length hair for the fifth time before they join his left hand fingers in typing on his macbook. perhaps he really should have read what cathy had done for their presentation concerning churchill winston’s take on the iron curtain during the cold war on monday.

or maybe he should not have jerked off to images of louis again. it really had been mckenzie’s fault though.

“…so then i’ll just present on the conclusion,” concludes cathy. harry nods mouthing, “perfect”, still typing his analysis on the powerpoint presentation. “are you sure you’ve got this? this presentation is 20 percent of the final grade and i’m not looking into getting an a-minus from this history class.”

harry can sense the worry in her tone. “you’ll be fine. i’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

she nods nervously and then her demeanour changes. “i had fun last night,” she says under her breath. she is leaning towards him, her arms pressed so hard her cleavage is in full view. “i know it meant nothing, this is part of the trick, the ‘wine and dne’ trick, and it’s all fun and games, but i enjoyed it and i’d love to do it again with you.”

“i don’t sleep twice with a one-time…,” he says blankly. he takes a look at her cleavage – no bra today? – and turns his gaze back to his laptop, continuing, “fun.”

“we did have fun,” she giggles. “but i’m not like most girls. i know what fun is, and what serious is, and to be honest, you and i would never even work.”

harry’s hands stop moving above his keyboard and he looks at up cathy, taking a glance at her cleavage again. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

she snorts. “you’re you, harry.” he shakes his head in confusion. “i don’t want to be on the list of the people who you slept with and they fell in love with one good fook. i’m the one that got away. i’m not looking for love; i just want sex, nothing more.”

harry smirks, nodding in amusement. she is right on the account that she is not like most girls. even though she has been ‘wined and dined’ by the harry styles, harry can tell that she knows this is a one-time _fun_ which most girls (and certain boys) do not understand. they usually trail him the following days after _the fun_ begging for a date, a lunch even, or just coffee. begging.

“plus i could tell you were thinking about someone else,” she adds on, “and whoever it is, i hope they know they’re not in it for the long run.” she sits up straight her cleavage disappearing as she fixes her see-through shirt. “like julius.”

harry rolls his eyes. “how come you’re not part of the ban?”

“niall’s ban?”

“yeah.”

“i think it’s dumb to be honest. i shouldn’t be allowed to talk to you because of some argument you had with taylor?” she questions. as she is tying her brown hair in a bun, she continues to probe, “and to make things more weird, why is it niall’s ban and not taylor’s? why is niall so pressed?”

“niall and taylor are partners in crime.”

“i think it’s stupid. plus the ban won’t hold for long. rumor has it that niall and taylor are having a spat,” she says.

cathy scrolls through her phone and harry turns his attention back to his powerpoint. he is so engrossed in it he does not notice louis standing beside him for close to 10 seconds, until he coughs. harry looks up to see an amused louis with light in his eyes. harry immediately shines in joy and opens his arms for a louis hug.

“still in tank tops i see,” laughs harry. louis rolls his eyes and takes the seat behind him. harry grabs his laptop and spins his chair so they are sitting opposite each other.

“what are you working on?” asks louis, fishing for something in his bag.

“my history presentation,” groans harry, rubbing his hands up and down his face, “again,” his groans muffled by the movement of his hands. “mrs biology emailed us yesterday that we needed to present whatever we handed in on monday and i literally i’m stuck.”

“that’s all?” wonders louis. “that’s not so bad.”

“you’re doing on causes of world war two,” mutters harry, “not something hard as winston’s take on the iron curtain… why the hell did he even build one?”

“please tell me you know it’s metaphorical.” louis gives him the look and harry rolls his eyes playfully.

“of course i do,” mutters harry. he dramatically shuts his macbook laptop and props his large hands on top of it. “i’ll wing it.”

“you’ve been winging junior year,” laughs louis, “i don’t see why this presentation is different.”

“idiot,” he slaps louis arm,“cathy is worried she’ll get an a-minus for it.”

“who’s cathy?” wonders louis. harry points with his thumb to cathy sitting behind him on the chair. “ah. the cleavage girl.” harry winks, chuckling. “is that why you chose her?”

“she also is quite smart,” defends harry. “beauty and brains… who says i can’t have both?”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“i can’t wait for today,” says harry, his tone in a lower register. “i’m looking forward to it.”

“it’s just burgers and fries harry, not like you’re buying a new cadillac.”

“still, i like doing stuff with you.”

“you like cathy’s stuff too,” louis winks, then roars in laughter. harry shakes his head in amusement, his dimples evident on his face.

mrs biology just then walks into class, students hurrying to their desks and getting ready for their presentations. the teacher calls out the register and soon enough the presentations begin. the first pair is julie and juliet presenting on causes of world war one, followed by mark and jean presenting on the results of hitler’s rise in europe, thirdly is the impact of the world depression of the 30s, and fourthly is louis and trisha presenting on causes of the second world war.

“beautiful presentation louis and trisha,” hums mrs biology from the back of the class, “very informative, and you went the extra mile in analysing the causes instead of just listing which i’m sure almost everyone here did with their presentation.” louis and trisha gush in happiness, already seeing an a on their presentation. “omar and jennifer,” she calls out for the fifth pair.

harry turns and leans back in his seat, catching louis’ gaze already on him. “you did amazing tomlinson.”

louis leans forward and whispers, “thanks asshead.”

thankfully the seventh pair takes a long time in explaining the cuban missile crisis that harry and cathy shall present theirs in next class. at lunch time, harry makes his way to _wherever_ taylor could be. it proves a lot harder than normal seeing as the school is still on the ban of ignoring him. he recalls seeing a poster on the school noticeboards indicating that a new position for a cheerleader is in place and harry hopes that taylor is _there_.

true to his guess, she is there in the football pitch, along with the former, current and aspiring cheerleaders. “taylor, can i speak to you?” he asks her.

she takes a look around her group of snobby rich girl friends and shrugs. she gets off the carpeted grass, her blond ponytail bouncing in the process, and they make their way to the bleachers. she takes a seat on the second row, her right leg crossing on her left knee, spine straight and harry sits close to her, squinting at the glaring sun.

niall is watching the two closely from the other side of the football field. his eyes narrow so much it looks like there are two thin lines instead of eyes on his face.

“you’re going to get permanent worry lines,” garry says. niall ignores him, his mouth in a scowl, still watching taylor and harry chatting on the bleachers. what could they possibly be talking about? he prays to the greek gods that taylor is not blushing under harry’s charm. it always pisses him off that people fall to harry’s charming dimples, smile, and his annoying laugh, and he just cannot get it.

he quickly gets off the carpeted grass. “practice over,” he commands the football team.

“you’re not the captain niall,” nick rolls his eyes, “i am and i say we are stopping when we really are.”

niall spins so fast on his feet the rest of the football team are surprised he did not fall down to the ground. his nose is barely touching nick’s when he mutters angrily, “i say we’re done and we are done. i think we all know who is really in charge here.”

a voice speaks. “it’s louis not you.” the rest of the team agree and niall shuts them all up by yelling “shut up!” and stomps off to where harry and taylor are. as he gets closer, harry’s eyes fall on niall and taylor simply rolls her eyes.

“what’s going on here?” he asks, his arms crossed against his chest. “since when are you two friends?”

“since never,” mutters harry. “i’m leaving anyway.”

harry gets up, walking down the bleachers, and so does taylor. niall grabs taylor’s arm and pulls her back. she yanks away from his grip, visibly frowning at him.

“what the fook are you so pressed about?” she screeches.

“what were you two talking about?” he asks, his jaw tense and eyes narrow.

“why is it any of your business?”

“because we’re in this together, in case your blond head forgot.”

“honestly niall.” she lets out a loud sigh as her ponytail bounces. “you’re being dramatic as always. is this because barbabra chose liam in the end and not you? nobody ever chooses you anyhow because you’re a fuckboy.”

“and you’re a fooking bitch, let’s move on to what we don’t know which is what you and harry were talking about. i thought we had a deal?”

“we do of course,” she says her arms crossed just like niall’s, “but if we are both douchebags in this school then we will not win harry in the end. one of us has to be the bad guy, which you do marvelously, and i’m the good one. it’s called divide and rule.”

“divide and rule does not apply to what we’re doing,” he almost yells then calmly, still tense, asks, “what did he want?”

“let’s just say you’re not going to be the captain for the football team for much longer, it’s going to be that louis person again.” she takes one step to him. she darts her gaze between niall’s eyes, to his lips and back up to his eyes. “like i told you before, i am willing to do anything to get harry back in my arms because nobody, not even a peasant like tomlinson, will take my dream of living the rest of my successful, rich, fabulous life with harry away from me.”

“you’re doing a marvelous job!” he snorts.

“he owes me a favour now,” muses taylor, “and you know how i can get with my favors.”

“when will you use the favour?”

“when it suits me.” and with that she bounces off, leaving niall sweating under the sun.

 

harry pulls one of the plastic red and yellow chairs to sit on in one of the restaurants in the mall. to say he is stoked about this ‘date’ is exactly right because he has not stopped smiling about it since lunch time. it is all he had been thinking about really, sending mckenzie occasional texts with far too many emojis on his excitement about the burger and spicy fries ‘date’ with _the very_ louis.

“you keep smiling like that, your face will remain like that forever,” jokes louis, sitting near him on the table. he dumps his shopping bag on the chair opposite harry containing the shower gels fizzy and his mom had asked him to buy.

“and it’ll be for a good reason,” he cheers unable to contain his excitement. his eyes dart to the registry area and beyond he can see the kitchen staff moving about, wondering if it is _their_ burger and spicy fries they are preparing.

“i still can’t believe that you haven’t tried spicy fries.”

harry turns his gaze back to louis, his cheeks a pink color. “i don’t normally eat fries actually. it’s always food with names i can’t even pronounce that well… it honestly feels good to eat food i can pronounce in _english_.”

louis nods, his mood slightly down. he leans forward in his chair and pockets his phone. “we are going to take selfies and all the captions will be ‘harry’s first time.’”

harry lets out a groan, his large hands covering his face. “i sound like i’m some virgin.”

louis places his hand on harry’s wrist and mock whispers, “the first time is the hardest. but don’t worry, it wont hurt a bit.”

“sod off”! harry rolls his eyes. he leans forward and louis hits the camera button. and again. and again. each time, louis making a different silly face, with harry’s eyes looking at the new silly face that louis is making.

“do you know that i have like so many views on snapchat nowadays?” louis says, typing something on his phone. harry leans in and reads: harry’s firsts.

“well when you’re hanging out with me people wanna know about it.”

“modest,” snorts louis. he brings his left ankle to rest on his right knee. “why though?”

“i don’t know,” shrugs harry. “i guess since people can’t talk to me in school they resort to instagram and snapchat to see what’s going on in my life and whatnot. i noticed this with the second girl i sort of dated after taylor and i broke up. she literally had like 5 views on snapchat and two days after we were… you know, she got over two thousand views.”

“two thousand?” gawks louis.

“crazy right?” chuckles harry.

“it is what it is.”

“does it normally take this long for the food to come?” asks harry, squirming in glee in his plastic seat. “it’s taking forever.”

“relax styles, we’ve been here, what, three minutes. plus it’s 4:30 so what do you expect?” louis loves harry’s glee state, squirming in his seat, his fingers drumming the table in anticipation of their fast food meal coming up soon. or right now.

two trays are plopped down on their red table, harry mumbling a thank you. he looks up at louis, dimples and all, and asks what to start with. louis chuckles and tells him there is no order to eat, to start with anything he pleases.

harry’s eyes shut tightly, his large fingers grip the brown bun tightly and a moan vibrates throughout his body after taking a large bite. he chews slowly leaning his head back a little, savouring the taste of the bbq sauce inside his burger.

“best. burger. ever!” he gushes. “how have i never tried these ones?”

“these ones?”

“the ones i have are always plain and dry,” he mumbles, his excitement now wavering. he puts his burger down and dramatically announces, “now for the spicy fries.”

louis holds out a dark red sauce out for him. “they taste better with this than barbecue sauce or ketchup.”

harry nods and dips two fries in the sauce and munches, getting his second foodgasm. he takes the sauce away from louis’ hands and sets it on his tray. louis simply laughs and they chat while eating their meal – well, louis does most of the chatting as harry swoons over his meal over and over again.

“i gotta take some for k,” harry says as soon as they are emptying their trays into the trash. “she’ll love it for sure.” they get back in line and harry orders what he just had for mckenzie. “she’s going to love it,” he gushes, swinging the bag of food.

“c’mon, we have to stop by the candy place before we leave,” insists louis after walking aimlessly for 15 minutes around the mall.

“candy?” questions harry. “why don’t you just go to the chocolate store? or better yet the ysl store?”

“we are not shopping today,” louis says firmly, a smile spreading on his face. “today is just food day which includes candy. i mean when was the last time you had gummy worms?”

“if you must know,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, “last sunday.”

“sour gummy frogs?”

“never.”

louis mock gasps and clasps his hand with harry’s and drags him to the open candy store in the middle of the mall. louis orders him to pick one of everything, harry politely declining stating he is full, but louis hears none of it.

“i don’t care what your stomach says, your bag better be full or i’ll just fill it with sour gummy frogs which fyi are the best candy out there.”

“i go for gummy worms no matter what.”

harry and louis the split and go fill their large white bag full of all types, and colors, of candy. seconds later, louis bag is full while harry’s is barely halfway full. he does not want to fill his bag with _just_ gummy worms but really, what can he choose from the multicolored candy pieces before him?

he is pleased enough when his bag reaches three-quarters full but his jaw drops when louis has not only one, but three bags overflowing with candy.

“three?” stares harry.

“you forget i have a thousand sisters at home,” louis reminds him, “and they’ll never forgive me if i did not buy some for them.” louis’ gaze drops to harry’s half full bag. “and you’re adding more to your bag.”

“isn’t it going to be expensive paying for four bags of candy?” ponders harry.

“hush styles,” he dismisses him, “it’s my treat, plus it’s not every day i eat candy.”

harry nods. “i don’t know what else to add though.”

“no problem,” grins louis. he fills harry’s bag quickly by adding many strings of red, green, yellow and blue into his bag so much so many of them are hanging _out_ of his candy bag. “now we’re good.”

“excess,” he giggles. “you really go all out when it comes to candy.”

louis pays for the four bags – the price over 30 pounds, but louis brushes it off, saying it is a special occasion. harry asks “what occasion?” only to be met with a wink. harry suggests they drive to louis’ place first so that he can give his sisters their candy bags.

harry carefully places the candy in the backseat once they are both inside his cadillac. louis does the same, and immediately connects his aux cord to his samsung.

“please don’t put those horrible songs you put that one time,” groans harry as he watches him tap on his phone. he picks a gummy worm off louis’ candy bag. “or i’m going to feel like i’m in a lil’wayne music video.”

“surprised you know who lil’ wayne is,” he says absentmindedly chewing on a sour worm. harry playfully punches him on the arm and leans back into his leather seat, waiting for the car speakers to hum. “we’re all waiting here,” he says to louis.

louis’ eyes are glued to the phone lighting up his face in the cadillac. harry is momentarily mesmerized by the light illuminating his distinct cheeks bones. his thoughts are interrupted by blasting noise filling the cadillac and harry groans outloud. it is one of the songs he does not like – at all.

“ _welcome to the zoo_ by fetty wap,” says louis. “it’s a dope song.”

“nobody cares about sodding wap or whatever his name is is,” groans harry. he feels as if his ears are bleeding. “i beg of you to please play anything at all. including that music that sounds as if kitchen plates and pans are banging against each other.”

“dubstep?”

if harry is honest with himself, he does not _mind_ louis playing all genres of music, mainly hip hope and house as that seems to be a favourite of louis’, because he really is not a music fan. the only songs he knows are the ones that come on radio (when the radio is ever on) or billboard 100, other than that he is lost at who is who in the current music industry. so whenever louis plays music from his playlist, it excites harry to listen to something different, something edgy even if it is fetty wap rapping about _who knows what_ since he can never hear him anyhow!

harry turns off his car, the key dangling at the ignition, having arrived at the skate park louis’ frequents.

“anything but dubstep please,” harry requests. he makes no attempt to get out of the car but instead twists his body so he is looking at louis. the boy, whose face is glued to his samsung phone screen, is leaning on his shoulder against the chair facing harry, one of his legs tucked under his thighs.

“from the far lands of belgium,” louis dramatically announces, “i bring you tomorrowland.”

harry’s favourite thing, he has decided in a matter of seconds, at this moment, is louis’ eyelashes. he cannot help but stare intently at how they graze his soft cheeks whenever he blinks. “what’s tomorrowland?” he asks, slipping out of his daze. a soft hum of house music by steve aoki plays a personal favourite of louis.

louis looks up at him. “it’s a music festival held in belgium every july for like three, four days and in brazil in september. it’s super wicked! there are all these deejays like chuckie, but mainly it’s a sick bunch of artists like martin solveig, dimitri vegas and like mike, armin van buuren, benny benassi and of course who doesn’t know david guetta?”

harry gives him a blank stare. “who’s david guetta?”

“he’s like the pitbull of house music,” says louis in disbelief that someone cannot know who david guetta is. david guetta. “that’s it, our tomorrowland music session shall be for next time. right now we are going through a crash course of nothing but david guetta,” louis pops in a red piece of candy into his mouth, harry smiling in amusement, “and to begin we begin with his older songs…”

 _memories_ by david guetta plays through the speakers, harry turning the dial for the volume. harry presses his temple against the leather seat, enjoying the beats of the song playing through the car. he is extremely grateful that lousi is not making fun of him for not knowing _who_ david guetta is. if he were with taylor, niall, or really anyone at his school, they would have teased him for it, passing the point of playful teasing and downright insulting him for not knowing who david guetta is. somehow the conversation would even shift to what a pathetic person harry is.

but not louis.

never louis. a small smile tugs on his lips. louis does not judge him for not knowing what is obvious to the rest of the world as he would rather be listening to elvis presley or michael jackson than david guetta or the sodding fetty wap lad.

“play another,” he requests. the music changes and his ears are met by piano notes playing. “what’s this?”

“the alphabeat.”

“what kind of song name is ‘the alphabet’?”

“no,” louis shakes his head, “alphabeat, not alphabet.”

“alphabeat?” he questions. he reads the song’s name on louis’ samsung and it really is not alpha _bet_. “that’s actually creative.”

louis nods. “right! what i thought and i played this song all day and night that lottie literally slammed my laptop between my fingers to stop me from playing it.” harry laughter roars in the car. “stop laughing,” louis cannot help but laugh too, “my life flashed before my eyes.”

harry takes the phone away from louis, mumbling it is his turn to pick the next songs. louis shrugs and gets even more comfy – by propping his socked-feet on harry’s thigh and the bag of candy halfway across on the cadillac dashboard. harry rests his hands on his feet, scrolling down through the ‘david guetta’ tag.

“i actually know one song,” glees harry and presses _titanium_. “it was on billboard 100 for 2012. plus it was played a lot at my parties that for a time it was like my party anthem.”

“you had a party anthem?” laughs louis. he picks handful of sour gummy worms from the candy bag, popping a few into his mouth. “who has a party anthem in this century?”

“that’s what i’m saying, the song was played so much that it just stuck.”

“you should’ve played some other song like _paradise_ or _wide awake_ then at least you’d be cool.”

“hey,” he slaps louis’ ankle, “i am cool. i know _wide awake_ is by katy perry.” louis mock claps for him. “again, that’s thanks to liam who has a huge crush on perry.”

“how come?”

harry looks up from louis’ phone. “how come he has a crush on perry?”

“no asshead,” chuckles louis, “how come you like classic songs better than” – his thumb points to the stereo – “these songs.”

harry shrugs. “i don’t know really. mckenzie jokes that i’m an old soul on young shoulders and whenever i’m around people i remember what she said. except i know she didn’t mean anything by it but when people are talking about going for concerts with these artists who appear on tv, like rihanna or someone, and you can’t be like ‘hey, yeah let’s go’ because really, you don’t know who they are. or when a music video comes out, you don’t know what the song is let alone the artist. or at times when i get excited i got all of michael jackson’s albums on vinly and i tell someone, they make fun of me saying why am i bothering with him? i should forget him because he died anyway, just like elvis, joan jett and dolly parton.”

“well i for one don’t listen to classic songs but if you ever want to tell me, i’d be excited to hear about it,” says louis genuinely. the sole of his foot presses to harry’s v-line. “i mean it, even if i don’t know any of elvis’ songs or what whoever the fook joan jett is, you can tell me. i promise i won’t make you feel like shit.”

harry slowly nods, his lips tugging upwards. “you as well.” he folds a red string candy and pops it into his mouth. “you’re like my music guru for all these artists. but really my all-time favourite genre has got to be classical music.”

“like mozart?”

harry rolls his eyes playfully. “yeah, mozart. but there are others.”

“play them!” insists louis.

“no, we’re listening to david guetta.”

“forget guetta, let’s go to austria with the great and famous mozart.”

harry nods, all excited as he plugs his phone with the aux cord and hands louis his phone. “i know all the symphonies and i wouldn’t know which one is good for you.”

“you play me your favourites first then i’ll choose after,” suggests louis. harry nods, biting down on his lip in an attempt to not smile too much. he fails and his smile tugs upward showing off his illuminating teeth.

“this one is my all-time favourite,” says harry as a low voice sings through the speakers with various instruments playing in the back. “it’s called _requiem_. it is one of the last symphonies that mozart composed as he was literally on his death bed.” louis remains still, listening to harry animatedly talking about a simple song that means a lot to him, as the song grows upbeat, more voices joining the low one in the beginning. “this version is _requiem kyrie eleison_ which is pretty awesome but my absolute favourite is _requiem domine jesu christe_ which is absolute heaven to me. the way the music becomes silent then suddenly loud, the choir singing in higher voices, the organ and piano louder too, suddenly you can imagine being in the same room as mozart when he was composing the song.”

“i’m guessing you’d pick mozart if you had to pick a dead person to dine with,” louis wonders. harry nods grinning from ear to ear. “change the song.”

“this is a personal favourite, _kanon in d_ by johann pachelbel,” hums harry. louis brushes his foot along harry’s wrist, mildly turned on by harry’s passion for classical music, and mozart. it is nice to find someone that you have the same music taste in, but finding someone who can give you something _new_ to listen to is even better.

a familiar sound plays through the speakers and louis swears he has heard it from somewhere. “what’s this called?

“ _toccata e fuga_ by johann bach,” responds harry gazing at louis. “do you know it?”

louis fish-mouths. “the beginning sounds like some movie… that i can’t quite remember anymore.” he lets a frustrating groan. “it’s at the tip of my tongue!” louis notices a knowing smirk on harry’s rosy lips. “you know the movie don’t you?” he kicks his stomach with his foot. “tell me dammit! what movie is it?”

“i’m not telling,” winks harry. “and i’m changing until you figure out which movie bach’s song was in. this one really famous by van beethoven.”

louis eyebrows shoot to his hairline, his lower jaw hanging loose. “i know it,” he cheers happily as _für elise_ plays through the speakers of the cadillac, “i know it, i know it. i can play this on the piano!”

“you play?” he asks curiously.

louis nods, all jumpy. “i just didn’t know it was by beethoven. i thought it was those symphonies that had no composer to their name.”

harry laughs, shaking his head in amusement. they sit in harry’s cadillac for a close to two hours, not leaving the warm inside of the car, listening to classic music and more of david guetta’s songs. also perhaps harry loves the faint smell of burger in the air that made harry not want to leave the car. harry once again turns off his car, parking in front of louis’ house. he gets out of his car, louis already walked around to harry’s door and they both walk up to his door.

louis’ arm curls around harry’s neck, pulling him down to a hug. harry’s arms curl around louis’ middle, resting above his big ass that harry cannot help but ogle once in a while. or all the time.

“i had an amazing time today,” louis mouths, his warm breath on harry’s neck.

“thank you for taking me for my first burger and spicy fries,” says harry. his arms loosen around louis’ waist as the older boy’s face is in front of him, his mouth suddenly dry. his grip on louis’ back tightens as louis’ thumb softly thumb his warm cheeks.

louis’ gaze drop to harry’s rosy lips then back to lock eyes with harry. he licks with lips, harry intently watching and does the same. harry leans down to brush his lips on louis when the door opens wildly and fizzy is standing there, her eyes wide with excitement. “i smell candy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> music is amazing guys! it really is - all types. apart from jazz. and reggae. the rest YESS
> 
> if you EVER get the chance to go to tomorrowland TAKE.IT.AND.DON'T.LOOK.BACK! never doooo!!! i've never been, but it's on my Bucket List, and I'll be stoked to go - even for 1 day.


	44. 0.43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry have a lovely afternoon with masks and scenes from 'desperate housewives.'

harry watches mckenzie’s hair fly in the air as she retreats to her room and he turns on his heels, making his way up to the rooftop. he locks the door behind him, in his other hand with an expensive bottle of red wine.

earlier, mckenzie and he had gone for their much needed spa day at the sihaz country club: pedicures, salon, massage, waxing, and champagne as always. not forgetting shopping for tonight for the burberry fashion show in london. he makes his way to the end of the ledge and sits down on it, his feet swaying lazily, several metres above the ground. he tilts his head back, wine pouring down his throat and his eyes staring directly at the full moon shining down on his smooth skin.

lately he has been thinking about his sister, gemma, locked in _that place_ all because of him. it is his fault that she is in there and it has been 245 days since he last went to see her. so much has changed since that time: he broke his relationship off with taylor, his father moved (permanently) to canada, his mother closed him off (both of them actually) and both his parents could not care less. 245 days ago niall was his best friend, they were inseparable even. him and zayn shared a love of weed, smoking and getting high every other night (and day). liam was, well, liam.

245 days ago, gemma was in his life. presently, she was not. and things were somehow not better, but not worse either.

he is less suicidal nowadays, not often thinking of jumping off this rooftop and imagining the blood from his cracked skull spreading on the pavement. he fought his way in through two ivy leagues, namely oxford and harvard. he got the balls to dump his girlfriend of six years, and beyond. he bought his father the famous lady marie-antoinette horse that he loves so much without anyones help, well he gave it to zayn but nevertheless, he did it by himself.

that is what he has been doing lately, doing things himself without people’s approval or the ‘go’ sign. he twirls the crown ring on his index finger absentmindedly. it is all thanks to louis who believes him, inspires him to be a better person. and he is trying, trying so hard, but it is the snob in him that gets in the way every.single.time.

he places the wine bottle down on the ledge, barely drinking any of it. “like gemma always says look on the bright side, it can’t get shittier,” he mumbles to himself. he crosses his legs like a pretzel on the ledge. “you needed help gemma, and that was the only way out. it was the only out but at least you’re getting the help that you need.”

 

mckenzie and harry seat front row at the burberry fashion show amongst other influencers such as artists, designers, media, politician wives, among other who-is-who of london. the show begins with skinny, fabulous models walking down the runway, strutting their best catwalks in classy, summer attires.

mckenzie twirls her champagne glass in one hand, the other taking photos of the model’s outfits. harry takes her glass and drowns all of it. “this champagne is dry today,” mumbles harry disappointed. “honestly, burberry is slipping in everything.”

“your outfit is slipping,” she says deleting the last photo she took with her glittery thumb nail. “what is that cheetah shirt you got?”

“cheetah is fab k,” he says rolling his eyes, “plus when were the paparazzi allowed to sit front row?”

mckenzie ignores him, instead taking more photos of the models, occasionally whistling at outfits that she would find herself wearing. the time passes by and the burberry show is over, harry’s grumpy mood not over, though. mckenzie, however, does not want to be near his low spirit mood so she heads off, chatting to other fashion designers as he helps himself to more (dry) champagne.

“harry!” cheers taylor, coming into his vision, “such a surprise to see you.” she plants a kiss on his cheek, and another one on his left. “what are you doing here?”

he blinks twice, trying to stand straight. “i… i’m a fan of… burberry, obviously.” his feet walk over each other and taylor holds him up. “you?”

“so am i,” she smiles up at him, her hand on his chest. she takes a whiff of alcohol reeking off his entire body and the champagne glass in his hand tipping over.“it’s the one thing that made us hit it off.”

“it is,” he nods quickly, “it really was. and our love of champagne.” he hands her his empty glass of champagne. “it was a blast, wasn’t it?”

“the show?” she asks harry who nods. “i found it boring this season. perhaps the autumn one will be better.”

“doubt it,” he slurs, “burberry is turning into shit.” he tips his head back to drown an entire glass of champagne. “gucci is the one to look for and go for next time. gucci is the shit.” his voice goes louder over the last one, several heads turning their way. their heads turn to mckenzie walking towards them, a scowl evident on her nude lips. “this champagne sucks!”

“taytay, such a pleasure,” she sends her a faux-smile, taylor recognizing it immediately, “what brings you here?”

“my father is making a donation to the collection,” she explains with a fake smile plastered on her red lips. “plus i had tickets for the show anyway,” she quickly glances at harry, “and it reminded me of the good times when we went together.”

“this time it’s different,” spits mckenzie, her jaw clenching. “you’re not together.”

“i’m not with anyone,” slurs harry sadly.

“you mean cathy?” wonders taylor. she flips her hair behind her shoulders. “that was a one-time thing.” mckenzie squints at her, her bushy eyebrows scrunching together. “oh, you mean louis?”

“louis?” asks harry. he stands up on his two feet but tumbles down on the chair behind him, crystal liquid pouring onto the ground from the glass in his hand. “he’s a lovely lad. who wears far too many tank tops and stupid adidas shits.”

mckenzie reverts her attention back to taylor by blandly stating, “yes i mean louis, don’t you ruin this taytay.”

“ruin what?” she asks innocently. “there is nothing to ruin because there is nothing between louis and my beau.”

“your beau?” scoffs mckenzie. “you aren’t his beau taytay. it’s over between you two. haylor is over.”

“haylor is never over sweetie,” she says, her face calm but blood boiling within her small frame, “it hits a few bumps, but it goes on.” she leans in close, repeating, “it always goes on, mckenzie.”

“this isn’t a bump haylor, it’s over between you two. harry has moved on, and you need to as well.”

she laughs in her face, her arms thrown back. harry joins in too, not knowing what he is laughing at, or about. mckenzie rolls her eyes and murmurs to harry that she will be back so that they can leave. taylor, on the other hand, has her own plans and it does not involve the annoying mckenzie.

she takes the glass away from harry’s hand who immediately pouts. “me want,” he whines. “i want more tay.”

“i’ve got some place you’d want more, and without prying eyes and cameras flashing,” she says, her face dangerously close to harry’s. she winks and harry nods enthusiastically, his eyes hooded with alcohol. anything to get his sister out of his mind and the washing guilt, he consoles his drunken self.

he lets taylor curl her hand around his back and his hand snakes behind her neck as they make their way to taylor’s waiting limo outside. in the limo, harry finds his lips pressed to her neck, sucking on the soft, lavender-scented skin and her fingers raking his steel abs beneath his cheetah shirt. she brings her lips to kiss his but he tilts his head back in time and she ends up kissing his adam’s apple.

“no kissing,” he mumbles in the moving limo. taylor nods, not saying a word, makes her way down to his zipper. she quickly unzips it, harry’s head rolling to rest on the back of the limo seat, and takes him into her hands. she glances up at him (who is staring at the roof of the limo) and then quickly takes out her phone from her clutch bag with her other hand pumping his hard cock.

 **TAYLOR:** Operation Akko on!

 **NIALLER:** That was fast! How easy was it?

 **TAYLOR:** He got drunk. Burberry had terrible clothes, you know how it goes.

harry lets out a low moan, his palms clutching the leather seats.

 **NIALLER:** Liam isn’t around. He is staying at Ashley’s tonight.

 **TAYLOR:** Great. We’re heading back to my place in case K comes back tonight.

 **NIALLER:** On my way.

harry wriggles beneath her touch, the roof sprayed with his cum.

 **TAYLOR:** He’s already come! HURRY!

 **NIALLER:** 15 minutes.

taylor pockets her phone away harry still against the leather seat. “you always did love how i easily got you off,” she moans into his neck.

taylor manages to make her way to her bedroom upstairs half-carrying harry’s drunken body. quick enough, harry’s hot hands are on her back, his nose nuzzled on her soft neck, leaving wet kisses along it. it is not long before harry is clutching the pillow where taylor’s head is pressed to it and slamming into her one last time before cumming for the second time in just under 12 minutes.

 

niall screeches his audi to a halt, turn off the car, and gets out of it, stumbling a little, before running up the stairs to taylor’s massive red door. he then runs up the stairs to her bedroom and finds her casually scrolling down her phone, sitting against the bed frame.

“am i late?” he wonders, panting by the door. his gaze falls on harry’s naked body sleeping besides her on the bed. he shuts her bedroom door asking, “is he out?”

“yeah, like always,” she says, winking at him. “let’s do this.”

niall nods taking out his phone as taylor shimmies off her top exposing her perky breasts. “we need to make it looks as believable as possible,” she tells niall as he slides down her bed. he gets closer to the bed and instructs her to lie on top on a sleeping harry.

“alright,” she nods, shuffling closer to harry, “but it’ll be more believable if he is lying on his back.” taylor turns harry on his back slowly so that he does not jolt awake. she then positions her head below his chin, throwing an arm to rest on his toned chest. “put his arm around my back.”

niall nods, and does so. he steps back and snaps several photos on his camera. “don’t move,” he instructs. he quickly opens the snapchat app on his phone and clicks on the photo button, a romantic-like photo of haylor cuddling appearing on his screen. he types in the caption: “guess who’s back together?” and presses the “my story” option, sending the snap to _everyone_.

“we’re done,” he announces excitedly. “this is going to be sick!”

“you know what i was thinking lying here on top of him?” she says, a mischievous smirk

“what?” niall smirks at taylor who has a smile spreading on her red lips.

“we should fook on my side of the bed.”

niall’s cock twitches in his pants. “you know i get loud.”

“not my problem,” she shrugs. niall does not make any other excuses and walks over to taylor, crashing their lips together, harry sleeping soundly near them.

 

**-    -    -  
**

 

harry closes the door to his white matte lamborghini on a monday morning and leans against it. this week is going to horribly suck, he can feel it deep in his bones.

let us begin with the snapchat photo of him dozing off with taylor lying on top on him which was sent from niall’s snapchat. he had gawked at the photo for 10 seconds it played, then he replayed it, again, and again, his jaw dropping lower and lower each time he stared at taylor sleeping on top of him. as if that was not enough, there were _more_ snaps of him cuddling taylor, one even had a white sheet covering their asses and that was it.

he pushes himself off his lambo, adjusting the beanie on his head and heads towards the main doors of school.

mckenzie had been waiting for him to get home that saturday morning, shouting at him for what he had done. unfortunately, he had nothing to say to her because really, he had drunk too much, he did not even remember taylor being at the burberry show! however, mckenzie shoved her phone to his face anyhow stating that photos do not lie and she knows his post-sex face and that was it.

he takes a deep breath filling his lungs with air as he makes his way down the hallway. girls, plently of them, sending air kisses and winks towards him as he makes his way down the corridor to his english class.

funny enough all that went through his mind at that agonizing saturday morning is what will louis think? for sure he hoped that louis did not see niall’s snap of him and taylor but he did judging from the snap he got from louis winking at him with the caption: ‘ _looks like burberry was fun?_ ’ he then took a short video of his fingers moving up and down, making sure his crown ring was visible, with the caption: ‘ _single and already mingling’_ and made it his story, sending it to everyone on his snapchat.

he finds a seat in the back of the class near cathy because she is honestly the only one he can tolerate in this class (even school, he wants to add) after louis was transferred to another english class. he slides his palm down his face, groaning to them.

“long weekend?” muses cathy. harry lets out a loud sigh, propping his elbow on the table and resting his cheeks on the back of his hand. his gaze drops to her cleavage, then up to her nose. “cathy dear is listening.”

harry lets out a short laugh. “my life pretty much sucks right now.”

“oh the post-sex selfies?” she questions. a smile spreads across her nude lips that soften into a soft chuckle. “you could be the next kim kardashian if i’m not wrong.”

“make fun, make all the fun you want,” harry shakes shaking his head, “like i didn’t get enough of it this weekend.”

“oh i’m counting on it,” she winks and harry smirks at her. “i thought you and taylor were over though? i mean i was shocked to see niall’s snap, and even had to play it twice to know it wasn’t some random dude who looked like you but those bird tattoos were quite visible under taylor’s blond hair.” she stretches her hand and curls her fingers around harry’s wrist. “all this will die out harry, don’t worry about it. soon, we’ll have a new headline like niall and taylor’s sex with a goat.” harry barks a short laugh. “that was funny.”

“or kendall becoming a lesbo,” harry joins in. “that surprised everyone.”

“or niall and trisha dating,” giggles cathy. “i think that one surprised everyone. niall’s not a relationship person.”

“niall’s type is taylor and no one else.”

“everybody knows that,” she swats his bicep, “but i feel as if there is someone you’re worried about if they find out about niall’s snap of you and taylor cuddling.”

“he already knows,” he mumbles. his gaze falls to his thighs clothed in tight, black skinnies. “he already does.”

“and if he is still talking to you.” she pauses waiting for a nod from harry, and continues when he slowly nods. “then there is nothing to worry about. plus we all saw your snap of your doing random shit with your fingers saying you’re already mingling.”

“thank you,” he says to her. she shrugs and asks for what. “for not taking post-sex selfies and sending it to bloody everyone when we had sex.”  

just then the school speakers announce for all juniors to head to the auditorium for an important announcement. cathy and harry both get up and join the rest of the juniors walking towards the auditorium. harry loses cathy the moment they make their way through the auditorium door. harry searches the crowd for louis, hoping to sit near him. he ignores the winks, air kisses, cleavages all meant for him, and cat-calling for him to sit near him.

“looking for a seat handsome?” asks a red-headed.

“yeah but…” he tears his gaze from looking for louis in the audience and down at her plunging v-line. “i….”

“i’ve got more to show,” she hums once she notices his gaze on her large chest.

“i’m sitting with someone anyway,” he lies, his gaze back on the crowd searching for louis.

“i thought you were single?” she wonders.

“i am of course but right now i am sitting with someone else,” he says to her, not paying attention to what he is saying. his eyes fall on louis, seated among his football mates, liam on his left. just then louis stops mumbling something and locks eyes with harry.

“come,” he mouths, his hand indicating for him to come towards him.

“no space,” he mouths back. true, his whole section was filled, no empty red seat in sight. louis turns in his seat to look behind and then back at harry. “i’ll sit somewhere else,” he mouths.

“with me,” the red-headed whispers to his ear. apparently she has been following what these two are mumbling to each other.

“i’ll come with,” mouths louis. harry shakes his head aggressively but louis makes his way out of the row and walks down the stairs to meet harry. half the of the juniors in the auditorium witness louis wrapping his arms around harry’s middle, and lasting much longer than they would like. others wishing harry would wrap his arms around their shoulders instead.

“is this who you’re sitting with?” asks the red-headed snarling at louis.

“yep,” he replies, popping the ‘p’. she gives louis the once-over, flips her hair over her shoulder and makes her way to finding a seat _without harry_. “what a charmer.”

“what a cleavage,” howls louis. harry rolls his eyes playfully and asks where they should sit.

the auditorium is quite packed by now and the left spaces are few and at the back. harry points to an empty seat in the middle at the back and louis nods, making his way. a few other girls, who were waiting behind harry, make their way up and it now looks as if harry and louis are being followed by a crowd of girls. others who have already sat down, get up and follow them, too. any chance to get noticed by the harry styles, really.

“you didn’t have to,” harry tells louis once they’ve sat down in the eleventh row of the auditorium. harry’s gaze moves past louis to see some girls crowding the ninth and tenth row, others coming to seat the row behind them.

“you’ve got quite a fan base styles,” laughs louis. harry swats his arm, a smile plastered on his own face. “you should be doing autographs now.”

“hush you.” harry leans back into his seat, ignoring the stares that he is getting. at least trying to. the principal walks into the auditiorium immediately making his announcement: the july debutante ball.

it is that time of year again when a wealthy princess is escorted up the stairs by her rich prince donned in their fabulous, legendary outfits that show the world that they are spawns of diamonds and cartier and all the glitz that commoners wish they could be. and have. it is a tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation that the rich have kept going for so long. it is their rite of passage into the world – and everyone is going.

 

“is everything okay?” asks louis as he is packing books into his backpack at the end of the day. he stuffs his history book into his backpack remembering the quiz they are going to do tomorrow. and adds his other fat history textbook that he will probably need to glaze over in chapter 14.

harry is leaning on his left shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest with his beanie still on his head on this sunny monday. “yeah why?” harry asks.

“i excpected you of all the people in our year to be stoked about the debutante ball yet you weren’t,” says louis. he slams his locker shut and harry pushes himself off the lockers. they make their way down the corridor, a few ‘hellos’ directed towards harry.

“i should be used to all of this,” says harry, taking large steps towards the door. louis hangs onto the straps of his bag trying to catch up to harry’s lightning speed. “i mean it all started with niall and then i blew it off because it was just a bit of fun.” louis is jogging by his side, breathing heavier. “then it was julius and it got worse, nobody was talking to me, or even my friends. i was alone.” louis is now practically running as harry is racing to his car, his words spilling fast. “but this is just like last time i guess. at least last time people had shit reasons to leave me, but now ’cause i broke up with haylor, people decide—”

“harry stop!” his palms point at harry as he takes two large gulps of breathes. “stop!” he pants once more. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” he takes a large heave of breath, and exhales slowly. “and stop bloody walking fast with your long legs.”

“everybody leaves,” he says with a bored expression.

“and i’ll bloody keep telling you that i’m here to stay,” mutters louis. he palms harry’s shoulders, his chin tugging upwards slightly to gaze at harry. “until the day you believe it. remember about second chances?”

harry bites the inside of his cheeks, feeling them warm up. he drops his gaze to louis, his blue-eyes hypnotizing. louis takes a step to harry and his fingers graze down harry’s neck slowly, harry distracted by the closeness and the sun becoming unbearably hot with his beanie on.

“i said i’d be here for the second chance and i’m here aren’t i?”

“it gets hard,” he confesses. louis slowly nods. harry shuts his eyes and head bumps louis’ shoulders, his arms curling around the inward curve of louis’ back. “you don’t smell like lemons….”

“i forgot to buy the shampoo,” murmurs louis, carding his fingers in harry’s thick hair. “i had to use my dad’s instead.”

“smells like spice,” notes harry.

“are you sniffing me?” louis chuckles.

“are you guys done?”

harry and louis break from their embrace to the red-headed girl that was in the auditorium earlier in the day. her eyes shoot daggers at louis, her right leg bent at the knee.

“hi rosa,” greets harry, giving her a small wave. “what’s up?”

“if you’re not busy doing trash” – she sends a glare louis’ way – “you and i can have fun, tonight, at my place.”

“eh,” mumbles harry, his fingers rubbing behind his neck, “i’m actually not—”

“why not?” she huffs, stomping her right foot on the ground. “you had sex with that bitch cathy and then your ex-girlfriend, which b.t.w was fooking gross, so why not me?”

“the taylor thing was an accident.”

“she’s telling everyone you fucked thrice!”

harry’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’, no sound coming out. “what?” she remains silent glaring angrily at harry. “i… it’s not you it’s me. plus i was drunk that night, i had too much champagne.”

“that doesn’t answer my question,” she tells him sternly, her arms crossed below her b-cup breasts pushing them upwards. “what do they all have that i don’t?”

“for one you’re very,” his gaze drops to her plunging v-line then back to her exaggerated eyebrows, “emotional.”

“emotional?” she questions, her glossy lips in a snarl. “i’m not fooking emotional.”

“listen here you red-headed bitch,” louis voices out, surprising the both of them, “you’re just a thirsty cunt that will never get harry’s magnificent dick. so you might as well give up.” he lowers his voice getting closer to her. “sorry love but he doesn’t fuck anything below an a-cup.”

“i’m not an a-cup!” she shouts at louis.

“oh please,” louis snorts, “you want me to believe those” – his eyes glare at her breasts – “aren’t fake?”

“fook you louis!” she screams, stomping off. louis turns to see harry’s eyes wide in shock, amusement ghosting his face.

“you’re… incredible!” he breathily sighs. “so amazing.”

“remember when you said you’d tell people to fuck off more often?” louis asks and harry remembers very well the sound advice he got from louis. “well this would’ve been a good start.”

“but…”

“don’t care what she’ll think of you because she’s just here for your body and your… holy fooking hell!”

louis stops walking, his mouth dropping at the sight before him. it is harry’s new, white matte lamborghini car. louis’ eyes grow wider, the blue seeming tiny surrounded by the white in his eyes.

“this is fooking sick,” he shouts, walking around it slowly, admiring it intensely, “when did you buy it?”

“yesterday,” harry says with a nonchalant care in his tone, “i was feeling a bit down and ysl shirts couldn’t make me feel better.”

“so you bought a car?” he gasps. his fingers are trailing the lambo in admiration “a fooking lambo?”

“get in!”

louis does not need to be told twice. he enters the car, loving the smell of leather hitting his nostrils and he holds in the smell for as long as he can before his lungs collapsing inside of him. he shuts his ears with his palms, leaning his head against the seat.

“did you just orgasm?” laughs harry.

“shut up!” he hits back, a small smile spreading on his lips.

“do you wanna come…over?” harry asks tentatively.

louis hits the back of his head against the seat releasing a slow breath. with his eyes shut, he answers, “you could drive me to antartica and i’d say yes if i’m in this car.”

harry lets out a breathy laugh and he drives out of the school parking lot, to his mansion in just 15 minutes away in his lambo. it takes some persuasion but louis leaves the car after ridiculously rubbing his body against the car seat so as to preserve the smell on him – the leather smell of a new car. harry shakes his head watching in amusement as louis murmurs ‘i love you’s’ to the car, spreading his arms around the white matte car as much as possible.

 

“home cinema?” asks harry, sliding a glass of ice water across the kitchen island to louis.

“what would you be doing on a monday if i wasn’t here?”

“uh…” harry stretches his hand to scratch the back of his neck. louis lips freeze on the glass, his eyes raking horizontally at harry’s bulging biceps. “i would be doing something not usual for normal males.”

“males?”

“males.”

louis places his glass down with a clink on the kitchen country. “what do you mean?”

harry remains quiet, his eyes downcast at his untouched glass of water on the kitchen island. louis gets off his stool and walks over to harry. he spreads his thighs wide open with his hands and slots in between harry’s thighs, his jeans and harry’s jeans scratching against each other.

louis has come to ignore the far too many housekeepers in harry’s house by now but he cannot help but glance at them before his gaze meets harry’s green one. harry’s hands are clasped together between his thighs, fumbling his thumbs together.

“tell me.”

“it’s embarrassing.”

“as embarrassing as you shopping for silk shirts?” mocks louis but harry knows he is not serious.

“worse.”

“how worse?”

“monica lewinsky-worse.”

“you have sex with someone every monday after school?” grins louis. “is it cathy? it can’t be kendall cause she is a lesbo now.”

“i like saying her name that’s all,” beams harry. “monica lewisnky.” his eyes light up suddenly, a bulb lighting up above his head. “you know that singer, whatshername… beyoncé sang about monica lewinsky.”

“ _partition_.”

harry blinks. “what?”

“that’s the song name.”

“can you send it to me?” asks harry. “it’s a sick song.”

“harry,” louis breathes, his nose barely brushing harry’s. harry tenses, his throat dry and his eyes crossed-eyed attempting to look at louis’ nose. “you’re doing it again.”

“doing… doing what?” he swallows thickly, mostly air going down. one of louis hands cards harry’s thick hair, the other already unbuttoning harry’s fifth button. he looks down following louis’ unbuttoning his gucci shirt, their foreheads bumping touch.

“where you change the subject because you think i’ll run.”

louis voice is thick, heavy and husky and harry thinks this is his favourite voice on louis (and second his laughter). he inhales sharply when louis’ middle finger brushes his crotch area.

his lips tremble. “i….i don’t do… that.” louis palms his crotch, this time more firm and the hairs on harry’s neck and arms up stand up. harry’s forehead grazes louis’ to nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent. his lips tremble on louis pulsating vein on his neck when he hears a zipper open. he takes a sharp breath through his mouth, his lips pressing to louis’ neck.

“tell me,” asks louis, his voice firm, not shaky like harry’s. louis’ fingers grip the long hair on harry’s head tighter, the tips of his fingers thumbing harry’s boxer waistband. harry’s legs jerk spreading them wider and louis fingers slide down easily.

“i…” his head is yanked back, a throaty moan escaping his lips. “i put on a face mask.”

louis fingers freeze inside his boxers. “what?”

“i put on a… face mask,” he says his voice shaky, not from louis fingers brushing his cock but from the confession. his eyes dart sideways staring at the white ceiling, the silence quite loud. louis pushes his head forward so now they are gazing at each other.

“how’s this worse than monica lewinsky?”

“well, um… if you take your hand off my penis it’d be easier to talk,” muses harry. he leans forward to louis. “unless you want to finish me off.”

louis removes his hand, a smug spread on his face.

“you’re a fooking tease you know that,” harry mumbles, blood rushing to his face, and between his legs.

“tell me.”

harry takes a deep sigh and begins his tale: “this one time, last year actually, taylor randomly said we should go for a facial seeing as chuck bass was holding one of his many bass’ charity galas. i agreed and off we went. we had so much fun,” a faint smile ghosts harry’s pink lips, “we then made it a regular thing and i thought we were both having fun. guess i was wrong.

“i had gone to the bathroom and when i came back, she was giggling with one of the workers saying that she found it horrifying that her own boyfriend was getting a facial with his girlfriend when he should be out training for a football match or boxing. i thought nothing of it and then a few facials after, i noticed that she would have a disgusting look whenever one would smear the mask on my face. i stopped going with her.

“niall found out as well and he decided that i wasn’t good enough as a bestfriend.” his expression gloomy when he adds, “zayn too. then the news that i prefer spending sunday afternoons at a spa than out watching footie spread like wildfire in school and soon i was the laughing stock.”

“but i don’t understand, what about all the people who literally crowd to talk to you?”

“people only want to be with me either because i’m a styles or they wanna fook me,” he says blankly. “when it comes to… i don’t know, getting to know me, they take off not wanting to be with someone like me.”

“what do you mean someone like you?” asks louis, frowning furiously. harry shrugs not adding anything. “what about liam?”

“liam stayed,” harry smiles fondly, “he said he didn’t care if i spent a whole day at a salon doing my nails, chatting about how boys are stupid, he’d still be my friend. he sometimes comes with me for a massage, but don’t tell him i told you, he’d kill me.”

louis chuckles softly, and his heart cries out for harry. “you shouldn’t let people at school, or anyone really, tell you what you can or can’t do because it is fixated to a certain gender. do whatever makes you happy i say.” he fish-mouths his eyes thinning a little. “unless you’re a rapist.”

harry nods, lips in a tight line. he is beyond relief that louis did not run like everyone in his life have all done when he tells them about his guilty pleasure. he later finds himself pushed to a couch in the middle of one of the many spare rooms in his mansion, his socked-feet firmly on the ground. above him is louis looking between two xl tubes: a strawberry-scented one and a mint-scented one.

louis hums. “i don’t know which one.”

“any will do,” says harry, staring up at the tattoos on louis wrist, the skull one looking better than the other. “i haven’t used the mint one before.”

in the background the lovely sounds of lady gaga are playing through the speakers that are wired throughout the mansion, meaning every single room, including the garages and attic, are playing _donatella_. louis told him straight up that this evening, on face mask mondays (their new thing), they will be stereotypically gay. anything that screams “gay” they shall do it, damned be the odds looks that society is judging them by. looks like lady gaga was their anthem for tonight, too.

“mint face mask it is!” louis says cheering at the end. he unscrews the bottle cap and spills some onto his fingers, the scent of mint hitting his nostrils immediately. he bends down and smothers his face with the mint face mask, smoothing it real good over harry’s baby face.

“is it good?” inquires harry, his eyes searching at louis. louis bites down on his bottom lip, hiding a laughter. “what?”

“you look ridiculous,” giggles louis. he pockets out his phone and positions it above harry’s face, snapping several photos on his phone. “how long does this last for?” he asks as he pockets back his phone.

“should be for…” the pads of harry’s index fingers touch his cheeks, feeling the almost dry mask on his face. “… couple of minutes, about five, seven minutes.”

“don’t touch,” louis says, swatting his fingers off his masked face. “my turn now, i’d like the strawberry one.”

harry sits up on the couch and twists his body to louis. “you want one too?” he asks, mildly surprised.

“you’re not the only one who wants a glowing skin!”

harry’s lips crack open, small chops of laughter escaping. “i…i think that’s awesome.”

“so, what do i do?”

“lie down,” instructs harry, his smile still on his face. he watches louis lay on his back on the carpet floor. “i meant the couch.” louis shrugs, wiggling on the floor. harry rolls his eyes, ruffles his ysl sleeves to his elbows and bends his knees and sits on top of louis.

“and i thought you meant the floor,” adds louis. harry chuckles and says nothing. he opens the brand new face mask, spreading some onto his fingers. the smell of it spreads near them and a half-moan escapes harry’s lips.

“so good, so fresh.”

“it’s okay i guess,” louis shrugs. “less talking, more spreading. i want my skin to glow. fyi, you look like a snowman.”

“i happen to love snowmen.” harry’s upper body lowers down, dabbing dots of the face mask onto louis’ face. louis’ blue eyes gaze into harry’s, watching them dart to the left, feeling harry’s fingers smoothening the mask across his forehead. then watching them slide to his right, harry’s fingers smoothening the facemask on his cheeks.

“you’re staring,” harry mumbles. his fingers move down to his jawline, spreading it around. a small blush spreads on the apples of his own cheeks, a small gap in between his lips opening wider.

“you have emerald eyes,” louis says ever so slowly, his palms flattening on harry’s thighs that are boxing his torso, “that look like broccoli.”

harry barks out a laughter, the face mask cracking around the corners of his eyes and mouth. “broccoli? of all the things?”

“i don’t know, you’re like a health freak so i didn’t want to say something like,” he pauses, thinking of something that is not healthy, yet fails when he says, “salad.”

“salad is unhealthy?”

“yeah,” louis nods, his voice in a faux-serious tone, “it’s totally unhealthy. i hear it gives you greater health, beats those fatty acids that are flowing in your blood stream…” he stops talking to listen to harry’s laughter, real laughter, his stomach flexing beneath his shirt, and his eyes almost clenching shut. “i’m right, aren’t i?”

“yes,” he says, in between cackles, “yes you are. also i think you’re high off the mask.”

“mhmm, tates like strawberry too!”

harry rolls his eyes and 40 minutes later, they are laughing at a scene from _desperate housewives_ in harry’s home cinema. harry’s legs are intertwined at louis knees, popcorn sprawled all over the large floor-couch, the remote stuck in the back somewhere and laughter loudly filling the large room.

“i think gabby is my spirit animal!” laughs louis clutching his stomach. “she’s so superficial, fashionable, bagged a hot husband…”

“and great sense in fashion,” adds harry laughing just as hard.

“who can’t fooking drive a truck.”

“she was drunk, you have to understand,” cackles harry. a new scene from _desperate housewives_ pops up on the large cinema screen where bree, and her boyfriend, keith, are hosting a thanksgiving dinner. in addition to the couple are their old neighbours and keith’s parents.

“talk about an awkward dinner,” mumbles louis as chewing caramel popcorn.

“and how the hell is that old man talking about strippers during the thanksgiving dinner.”

“cinnamon,” howls louis, throwing his head back, his shoulders moving up and down. “what kind of name is that!”

“holy fook!” gasps harry. “they’re divorcing! keith’s parents are divorcing.”

“it was pretty obvious anyhow,” says louis. his eyes flicker to harry’s open mouth, his eyes wide at the screen. “divorce was the only option.”

harry’s facial expression does not change as he turns to look at louis. he blinks several times before saying, “they could’ve worked it out.”

“once something’s over it is over, no amount of tape will repair it,” says louis, his gaze stuck on harry. “or even a johnny depp poster.”

harry’s lips form a smile, showing off his teeth. “of all the people, i’d never see you picking johnny depp. maybe some random footballer, or someone in some punk rock band.”

“punk rock band?”

“yeah, like” – he fish-mouths, his brows in a frown – “5sos, or…i’m not good with bands. or music in general. i think that was established some time ago.”

louis nods, his lips thin, and turns his attention back to the screen. “now keith’s dad is hitting on bree? some men have no boundaries.”

“uh…” harry shuts his mouth, staring hard at the screen in front of him. “i’ve been there once or twice. or couple of hundred times actually.”

“really?” asks louis, his interest peaking.

“i’m not proud of it,” mumbles harry, fumbling with his fingers. he pries his legs tied in louis’ knees but louis squeezes tighter, trapping harry’s body. “but…if you’ve been dating taylor for two years, or even 9 months, you’ll start looking around for a new catch.” he breathes out through his nose, hard. “but people talk, you get out of control and you’re stuck in a horrible, sex web.”

“sex web?” giggles louis, patting harry’s shoulder. “that should be a call girl’s motto for her website.”

“or porn.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> larry laughing together is such a MOMENT one cannot stop and stare for a while... because *heart eyes*


	45. 0.44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> niall hosts a party - for the first time harry is out of the limelight.

harry takes a deep breath in, then a slow one out. someone near him gasps but he ignores it. he takes a shot of… that is definitely not vodka, he notes and puts the glass down on the table.

earlier in the day niall had sent out invitations for _his_ house party, seeing as everyone in school is on a ban in talking to harry, it is now niall’s house that is the party to go to. of course, harry styles did not get an invitation but everybody knows the best parties are the ones you are not invited to.

harry, tagging louis along (he is the second person who had not been invited, obviously), came for the party anyway and despite the gasps, gawks and gushes from the people he passes by in the party, he has not met niall yet.

niall’s purpose for the party? it is barbara’s birthday. niall has not given up on pursuing her, despite liam publicly and explicitly claiming barbara as his girlfriend, niall is not one to give up! not for his dream girlfriend. here they all are, the party going borderline out of control, like a cross between _project x_ and _the great gatsby_. niall is successfully persuading barbara, seeing as she is flirting and laughing cheekily along with him, drinking to her fill and murmuring, “thank you’s” and “best party ever” to him and all niall sees is a badge with the word ‘winner’ written all over her body.

for once harry is out of the limelight.

“what the hell are you doing here?” yells mckenzie above the blasting music. she is holding a new black bottle in her left hand, her fingers barely gripping the neck. her eyes are hazy, glistening with happiness, or being drunk.

“who am i to shy away from a party?” harry winks. he grabs her beer bottle and chugs down gulps of it. he makes a scowl noise, remembering why he does not take beer. “this is disgusting.”

“don’t be a prude,” yells mckenzie above the blaring music. “you know niall’s going to kill you if he sees you here. or taylor. or zayn. or whoever is around.”

“i don’t care k,” shouts harry, looking around the neon lights and loud music booming through the niall’s large garden. he leans over the mini bar and grabs the first champagne bottle he finds. “i’m going to help myself and forget i’m even here.”

she sings, “why baby boy?”

“this used to be mine,” harry moans. he pops the cork, both of them screaming happily at the noise. his lips form an ‘o’ around the bottle, his adam’s apple bopping. “all of this used to be mine.”

“you need a new thing now,” she giggles. “like face masks-something new.”

harry playfully narrows his eyes at her. “that photo was sent in secrecy k, not to taunt me about it.”

“what are friends for babe?” she laughs loudly, harry mimicking in laughter, and he chugs down more champagne. “where is louis?”

“he said he’s getting us drinks,” he tells her. his eyes scan the vibrant party looking for niall, or barbara, but mainly niall. “but that was over an hour ago. i don’t know where he is. i hope niall hasn’t gotten to him.”

“louis knows everything there is to know about you so why are you worried?” she wonders, her tone failing to be serious as she giggles in between her words.

“no reason.” he sighs, chugging down more champagne. “why are you here?”

“i love parties,” screams mckenzie, the people near them cheering her along. “especially ones thrown by us, and not by poor, normal fooking brits.”

“those suck.”

“ours have a taste of class to them, they’re large yet intimate at the same time,” she says, glowing. “that’s why i’d go to any.” she inches closer, her lips brushing his ears. “but yours are my favourite.”

mckenzie then hops away, leaving him with half a bottle of champagne. harry hums, and walks down the steps of niall’s ridiculous large garden, then up more stairs into the mansion. if he thinks that the outside party was roaring, he is mistaken. inside is just as mad as the outside, if not _more_ mad.

hooligans, he says to himself, simply hooligans letting go of their titles, money, banks accounts, and societal standards. basically everyone forgets _what_ they are for the night.

he makes his way upstairs, again ignoring the odd looks he is getting from his school mates, and accidentally bumps into cathy. she is drunk, her arm swaying along the great walls, the other holding onto… is that chuck bass? mckenzie’s chuck bass? they enter a room to his left and shut the door loudly. he dismisses the thoughts of telling mckenzie, or humiliating chuck bass, as he as other motives for being at this party.

he opens the door to a room on his right, at the same time taylor shouting, “yes! right there” to zayn who is grabbing her hips tightly. his hand freezes on the door knob, his breathing slowing down in constrast to the fast-paced music booming through the walls. his eyes are glued on zayn and taylor having sex. taylor moving in rhythm to zayn; his ex-friend panting along with his ex-girlfriend.

no, it is not jealously seeping through him. definitely not. it is more towards pity. pity for everyone in his life. he is lucky to have escaped the chains in his world, somewhat seeing as he is still bleeding through the pores, but the rest of them have not. taylor, to begin with, is in a web of her own mess and uses blackmail and malice to keep herself safe. zayn is holding onto his old life, his old rich life now that the great mr malik is bankrupt (and uses his father’s last car to race harry in holding on to his past). niall is niall in bitter way, his actions, words all masking his eternal love for taylor.

and then there is liam, stuck in the middle of it all. the one true one who _knows it all and sees it all_ but does nothing about it because he simply does not care about the others. liam stopped caring for all of them, because they treat each other like dirt and rotting tomatoes. or last season’s gucci collection.

“ha-harry?” taylor questions at harry’s frozen body by the door. she gets off zayn, who is flushing and grabbing his boxers. “how long have you been standing there?”

“not long,” he murmurs. “gigi is looking for you zayn.”

“uh…” he stands before harry, fully clothed minus his shirt. “you won’t tell her right?” he walks away before harry can reply. tyalor takes his spot and pats his chest.

“you really won’t will you?” she asks in her faux-smile. “or else you know what gigi will do to zayn.”

“always with the threats tay,” says harry.

she inches closer to harry, pushing him against the door frame. her red lips brush his ears, leaving a stain on them already. “he’s not four inches, baby.” harry’s eyes meet hers, her giggles stuck in the air around them. “enjoy yourself.”

“fooker,” he curses when she is walking down the stairs. he pockets out his phone, texting louis asking him where he is. he texts liam, then deletes his text because he has been a jerk for obeying niall’s ban. mckenzie does not respond and, surprisingly, trisha does. he heads to the second floor, where she is, chatting with a few boys from their school and new faces he does not know. maybe they are sophomores.

“hello pretty boy!” she shrills, getting up from her position, walking around the tables and crushing him in a drunken hug. “you’re my favourite person here.”

“why’s that?” he questions. he loops an arm on her back, his mouth turning fowl by the sweat on her back. he moves his arm to rest around her shoulder, leaning his weight on her a little. “i’m not a favourite of anyone’s.”

“you’re mine.” she hands him a shot and harry gulps it down in an instant. “and louis’ of course.”

“of course?” he questions.

“of course.” she hands him another clear, bitter shot, harry gulping it down quickly. “he’s been looking for you, he thinks you went home and i told him that you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” he pulls him away from the tables and they are heading downstairs, harry feeling the effects of all the champagne and whiskey causing him to blink his eyes several times.

“maybe i should leave,” he mutters. “i wasn’t invited you know.” he hears a gasp from trisha but it sounds distant. “i came here uninvited; i’m on a ban from the host so this is basically social suicide.”

“bans are so 1920s, we’re here and now.” she leans down against the rail overlooking the large garden filled with lights, confetti, people and loud, loud music. harry joins her on the balcony, his hand holding an expensive bottle of whiskey. “bans shouldn’t exist. they are stupid.” her eyes wander before laying on green ones in front of her. “we should be free and wild,” – her chest is pressed to him, his hands absentmindedly wrapping around her (not minding the sweat anymore) –“we were born free, born to die as well, and…” her lips brush his, harry’s eyes half shut. “…in living and dying, we are always free.”

harry locks their lips together, his his bottle of whiskey shattering below him. their kiss is sloppy and messy, heated with the irresistible energy spreading through niall’s party. their kiss continues, occasionally breaking as some drunks bump into them. in a rush, they head back into the mansion, their lips finding each other in the heat, and both their bodies fall on the first bed they meet.

harry’s eyes roll back, and shut, his mouth hanging open. his shirt is ripped open and his belt fumbling somewhere beneath the music playing through the house. he rolls his head to the right and right there he sees a red headband. _her famous headbands_. this is where taylor and zayn were a few minutes ago. he cannot have sex in the same room as her, him… he cannot. he can’t!

“stop,” he says but it comes off as a whisper. his trousers are yanked hard, but stop mid-thigh. “no…” his voice is weak, his hands feeling like a bricks laying on the bed. he instead focuses on his breathing. in, 1, out,2, in, 3, out…

“stop,” he says a little louder this time. trisha crawls back up but except it is not trisha it is barbara. he frowns in confusion, her face not entirely 1080p. why did he drink so much champagne, he wonders. “what…wh…how did… what’s goi….”

“don’t worry harry,” she mumbles, her hand slipping in between his legs and cupping the bottom of his cock. “you’ve been mine for a long time.”

“please,” he mumbles. his throat is dry, and his eyes struggling to keep open. “stop. i’m… i’m not feeling well.” he can feel _her_ though. he feels her fingers, her small chuckles, her warm fingers around him. “stop. please.”

“we all know you love this harry,” she coos, thrusting him. “everybody knows you can’t resist beautiful lips around your massive cock.”

“no… not true,” he mumbles, his voice cracking in the middle. he shakes his head sideways but to anyone who is watching it looks as if he is just adjusting his head on the pillow. “no.”

“oh baby,” she coos, “you’re hot and heavy. we’re going to have fun.”

“please no,” he cries. his adam apple bobbles on his neck, his breathing increasing pace. he swats her hands away but it only moves an inch to his body. “wh…why can’t i feel…anything?”

“niall packs some pretty good drugs,” she winks but harry cannot see. “i wanted a few because honestly, i can’t stand listening to him talk about himself.”

“don’t do this… to me,” he begs. he gives up trying to move her away seeing as his arms weigh a tonne, and his legs limp. he still feels her around him, on him thrusting, massaging, hot breaths warming him up.

tiny drops roll down his cheeks, his eyes shut tightly and his throat as dry as the desert. he sniffs through his nose, his chest rising up and down in a fast rythm. “i… don’t like it.”

“hmm?”

“i…don’t…like it.”

“don’t be silly,” laughs barbara. “niall told me how you would be up for free blowjobs from girls, or sex, and you like it. at your parties you’d get sucked by half the girls, and sometimes boys as well. if they did a good job, you’d allow for sex. and you’re no shy boy in the bed. you’ve got a raging penis baby.” her lips kiss his head. “you’re massive.”

his tears flow freely now down his cheeks to the pillow his head is lying on. he manages to open his eyes, red and watery, and stare at the pale blue ceiling. “please bar… ra… stop.”

“your cock thinks otherwise.”

his voice trembles, “i want… to jump.”

“hmm?”

“i want to jump.”

“jump on me?” she asks. he remains quiet, his throat filled with phlegm and he cannot speak, when he does he feels like choking. “i don’t mind. i guess you’d rather skip the blowjob and have sex. this is why you’re an animal harry.”

he lets out a weak, “no.”

 

louis and mckenzie are franctically looking for harry. mckenzie knows how drunk, and wreckless, harry can get and louis is worried, upon seeing the text harry had sent him 30 minutes ago asking where he was and if he wanted to do dance with him (“elvis is playing”, he texted). mckenzie is cursing near louis, saying it is her fault she left, her fault her got drunk when she usually never does.

“why did you?” louis asks, trying to spot liam.

“chuck cheated on me with the whore of the school,” she says firmly. louis does not question her further, too preoccupied with finding harry and liam, in that order. “liam!”

louis turns his head in the direction she is shouting for liam and he spots him, having an argument with… is that niall? they both approach them, their conversation clear in their heads now.

“have you guys seen harry?” asks mckenzie.

“here i thought it was rumors that he is at my party,” scoffs niall. he drowns a glass of gin. “but that loser couldn’t resist the irish charm. of course he came.”

“it doesn’t matter,” cries liam angrily. “i want to know where barbara is. what the fook did you do to her?”

niall shrugs nonchalantly. a brown-haired girl cheers to niall, “best party ever!” and walks away with her group of girl friends. he smiles at her and then frowns when liam pushes him to the table. “what the shit?”

“where is barbara?” liam asks through gritted teeth.

“where is harry?”

“who invited you?” he scoffs at louis.

“i did, now answer liam!” growls mckenzie. “or i swear i’m going to drive a steak knife through your neck.”

“that sounds beautiful!” winks niall. “but i don’t know what happened to barbra. one minute we were doing shots the next she runs off into the house.”

“when was this?”

“like 15 minutes ago,” niall says bored. “i need her so we can cut the bloody chocolate cake i got for her.”

“fook you!” liam growls and punches niall hard in the stomach. and another to his chin. “you’re a fooking dick. get your own girlfriend instead of taking others.”

“she’s not yours to keep asshole,” niall laughs. louis does not stay any longer, and runs into the house looking for harry. he runs up the stairs, manoeuvring around the people sitting, smoking, and kissing on the steps.

“harry!” he calls out. he slams the first door, the second to his right and the third. “harry!” he keeps calling out. he reaches the end of the hallway, harry not in any of the rooms, and the one bathroom.

“where the fook is he?” mckenzie screams standing near him. she turns on her heels and walks back how they came, bumping in to sweaty shoulders. she takes sharp left and heads to the third floor. “he better be here or i’m killing him.”

“what would harry be doing upstairs?” asks liam, running behind them.

“i want to see what you’re like,” coos barbra. she rakes her fingers down his toned abs, drinking all of him in. “i’ll take my time with you. or until the drugs wear off which won’t be for a couple of hours.”

harry whimpers below her. he opens his eyes, his vision blurry with tearing, and he sees her. they make eye contact and he begs, summoning all his little energy left in him, and begs, “please leave me alone. i don’t want to. i want to go home, or jump.”

“you’re mine sweetie,” she coos. her head drops down and his presses against the sheets, shutting his eyes tightly. “all mine for the taking.”

he gives up. this is who he is anyway, right?

 

liam bumps the door open, the last door on the hallway, and stumbles in. his eyes stick to taylor, harry’s ex-girlfriend, taking off her underwear in front of hard zayn. mckenzie runs past liam her hands aiming straight for zayn with a loud slap. taylor screams getting off zayn as mckenize climbing onto the bed, and throws a punch at him.

“how could you cheat on gigi?” screams mckenzie. “how could you! do you know how much she loves you?”

louis shakes his head, and walks out, still in search of harry. liam follows, blowing air out of his mouth. “that was intense.”

“isn’t this normal for you?”

“yeah,” shrugs liam, “but doesn’t mean it’s not surprising.” he lets louis pass before him through the front door, people all around them chattering drunken words. “but shit! i never thought zayn would go down taylor’s train.”

“eurgh!”

“smoke?” wonders liam. louis holds out his dunhill cigarette packet but liam shakes his head. louis shrugs and lights his own, taking a long drag. “long day?”

“long party,” corrects louis. his feet are walking down the corridors still in search of harry. “long day at school. long week as well. it’s been _long_ lately.”

“it’s just a bad day, you always said.”

“not a bad life,” he finishes.

 

harry shuts the door to niall’s safe place and takes a deep breathe. the past 10 minutes race through his mind in a flashback: trisha running into the room and seeing barbara lying on top of him, about to take him without his consent, trisha helping him up and getting him lots of water and salt to wash away the effects of the drug barbara dipped in his champagne bottle, and then finally, harry managing to get barbara down to the safe place (surprisingly no one batting an eyelid) and going to make her pay for what she did to him. or what she was going to do before trisha saved him.

there is a knock behind him. he pushes himself off the door and opens it, trisha walking in holding several needles in her hand and a bottle of purple liquid in the other. he shuts the door, locking it properly and making his way past her to barbara tied up in rope against the blank wall in her birthday suit.

“did you have to make her naked?” trisha asks her eyes looking at barbara butt naked up on the wall like a painting at a museum.

“yes.”

trisha shudders, not enjoying being around _this_ harry. ever since she was formally introduced to harry, through niall, he has been nothing but kind to her, to louis, to the whole school. harry is the kind one, he is not snobby, nor an asshole, but _nice_. except looking at him now, anger seeping through his pores with revenge solely on his mind, trisha gets the vibe that is not the harry that the whole school knows.

“what are you going to do?” she asks wearily. she keeps a safe distance behind him in case harry decides to hurt _her_ along with barbara.

harry dips a needle into barbara’s milky skin deep enough to cause a frown on trisha’s face. a small dip of purple surrounds the area where the needle goes through, and barbara’s body goes limp again after the jolt of needle pressed into her skin. he steps back from her, a creepy smile spreading on his lips as his eyes drag down her naked body. he quickly ties her feet then her hands above her head with sisal rope.

trisha moves back from him, getting a little scared of what harry is doing to poor barbara lying unconscious on the floor. except what has she not seen? she truly has seen the ugly side of the rich, snobby life that niall, liam, zayn, taylor, mckenzie, even kendall, all live in, the crimes they do to each other for fun, for revenge, for spite, and what they do in revenge. yet, somehow it is never bad enough because trisha has had her fair share of torments throughout the years. except with these rich kids, it is different. they are all trying to deal with pain in the most destructive of ways.

“i’m going to make her pay,” harry finally answers her.

“why?” questions trisha, looking down at barbara’s lifeless body tied up by ropes. “what good will it do?”

“she almost raped me trisha,” says harry, “and if you weren’t there she would’ve done it. so i owe it to you.”

“i meant what will you get out of inking her skin?”

harr turns back to her, a malicious smirk spreading on his face. “i see you’ve been hanging out with niall and you’re learning about our rich world.” he squats down to barbara’s stomach, a tattoo gun in his right hand, the buzzing sound filling the small space. “i’m getting my revenge and getting right with niall.”

trisha’s eyes cannot tear away from what harry is tattooing on her body. “getting right with niall?”

“yeah. i did something… a year ago, and ever since he’s been angry with me. i’m sure you were there when he put insects on my body, when he took that snap of me sleeping with taylor, when he got louis transferred to another english class, when louis got demoted as a captain of the football team, or when—”

“i get it, she says, interrupting him. her eyes do not leave the tattoo mark harry has drawn on her stomach: hoe. it is big, in purple and not the only one on her stomach. there are many of the words spread around her stomach, and below her breasts. “i get it now. all this time i thought that it was niall being a jerk—”

“he is being a jerk but i can’t exactly stop him because i know why he is doing it. taylor doesn’t know, nor does liam. they weren’t there a year ago.”

“what happened a year ago?”

“none of your business trisha,” harry spits. trisha is taken aback and shuts it, watching harry tattoo other vile words on her upper body. “you know i’ve never inked someone before,” harry says in a daze, as he draws a tattoo of a penis on barbara’s right thigh. “it’s pretty fun.”

“i don’t get it though, you’re the nice one harry. you’re not the mean one like the others, you’re different. that’s why louis likes you because he knows you’re kind but seeing what you’re doing now, this … this is unlike what you’ve made him believe.”

“a year ago my life was completely different,” harry says as he fills barbara’s right arm with permanent ink. “i was dating taylor, who i would be marrying by graduation. my best friend was niall,” – trisha gasps slowly – “yep, bestfriend. zayn and i were partners in crime, literally. but that’s not the issue. niall, gemma, and i were hanging out on the rooftop, just chilling, smoking zayn’s batch of cocaine, y’know the usual. then i don’t know what happened but the police came and everything went south. secrets came out, punches were thrown, and i threw niall under the bus.”

trisha remains quiet, waiting for harry to continue. when he does not, busy writing vile words on barbara’s left thigh, she asks, “under the bus?”

“yeah. i left him when i shouldn’t have. i did the same with gemma.”

“what do you mean ‘throw under the bus’?”

“i should not have left him is all i’m saying. i helped gemma though, she deserved what was coming for her because she was a coke addict but i helped her.”

“who’s gemma?” she asks curiously.

“my sister.”

“you have a sister? your sister is in jail?” she gawks. “why?”

“i’m done.”

harry stands up, turning off the tattoo machine. he looks back at barbara’s body, filled with tattoos. from her breasts, arms, down to her stomach, and thighs, are vile words such as hoe, cunt, cocksucker, suck me (one word below each breast), loser, wanker and others trisha refuses to read.

“everybody has a limit trisha,” says harry solemnly, “and mine is very, very low compared to people in this school. people can trigger me but they’ll never figure me out. i can torelate pain, so much of it, to the point where i block it out. but what barbara was going to do was crossing the line. she shouldn’t have done what she was going to do to me because that’s vile and cruel, it doesn’t matter if someone loves sex freely, or one who is conservative.”

“harry.”

“just because i love sex does not mean that you should take it away from me without my consent,” he cries to her, blinking away the tears pooling in his eyes. “i said ‘no’ and ‘stop’ so many times, i even begged her to stop but she continued. why? because i was hard? that does not give you consent to have your way with me. because i’m drunk you think that’s a “yes”? a green light? no it’s not.”

“was she the first to…you know…” trisha tries to ask quietly unable to form the proper words. however harry understands what she wants to ask.

“julius was the first.”

“julius? but i saw the video, harry. louis too. you were on the wrong. you did him wrong.”

“nobody knows the whole truth about what happened.”

“then how come niall told us that you—”

“niall was my best friend then remember? i told him what really happened and you know what he did?” trisha blinks once, involuntarily shakes her head sideways, and her lips apart. “he laughed in my face and walked away.”

“i don’t get why, then, niall is being mean to _you_. it should be the other way around.”

harry squats removing the ropes around barbara’s feet and hands. “i didn’t want people to know what julius did to me and niall has held that secret over me all these years.”

“so the video was a lie?” asks trisha. harry shakes his head. “so what is the truth?”

harry smiles at her. just then barbara stirs awake, blinking severally at the bright room she is in. “wha-what’s going on?” her eyes fly open and look down at her naked body, then up at harry and trisha to his side. tears pool at her eyes upon seeing her marked body, her voice cracking, “what did you do to me?”

“poor girl,” says harry in his fake concern voice. “you shouldn’t have done what you were doing to do.”

she stands up frantically, her eyes scanning the safe place in panic. “but i did nothing. where am i?”

“niall’s safe place.”

 

 

niall turns his head as the group he is standing with stop talking as all their eyes are stuck on whoever is behind him. he turns as well and groans on the inside, and out. he snatches the beer in a black-haired girl and walks towards him, irritation radiating off his body. “don’t people know what not invited means?”

“nope.”

“i know what you did to barbara.”

“why are you so pissed then?”

“you used up all my bloody ink dickskin,” seethes niall. “what am i supposed to use now?”

“not my problem.”

“liam’s been looking for you,” says niall, his voice low. niall leans closer to him, his wet lips barely brushing his ears. “i think he knows he lost barbara after i threw this party.”

“you both lost her.”

niall sighs leaning against the wall. “game over to me,” he sighs again, chugging beer down his throat.

“thanks for lifting the ban,” he smiles at niall. “we’re even now. we’re starting off with a clean slate.”

“not quite. see i liked not being your best friend this past year. i feel free now.”

“fine with me. we continue this,” – he points between himself and him – “hostility between us. it’s fun taking you down when you’re powerless. i must admit i’m kinda scared.”

“you shouldn’t be because you know me, i get bored humiliating people. much rather buy cars, or clothes. but i’m setting down rules.”

“what are they?” he asks, his eyes getting hazy. he licks his bottom lip ever so slowly as harry approaches him closer, pinning him against the wall properly. “tell me.”

“you are absolutely not going to go after louis,” harry commands. “if you dare hurt him, in anyway, directly or indirectly, bully him, or whatever, i will come after you. you know i can now that we’ve settled the debt between us.”

niall squirms against the wall. harry’s fingers brush down his arm as harry’s cheek grazes his own flaming cheeks. “fine.”

“i mean it niall,” harry says with a firm tone. his lips wander from his jaw, journeying up to his temple with light kisses. “he tells me anything, anything at all, or if i hear you did something to hurt louis, you’re through.” he teasingly sucks on niall’s ear lobe. niall releasing a choppy breath. “we’re done completely and you’re gone, just like julius and vanessa did.” harry’s nose touches niall’s lightly. “and i do it so much worse than you.”

niall gulps, his eyes cross-eyed in looking down at harry’s plump lips. “louis is safe. i won’t hurt him, i promise.”

harry backs up from niall, his own hands falling at his sides. he plasters a faux-smile on his face and says, “good. see you around niall.”

niall blinks rapidly, missing harry’s heat. “what about gemma?”

“yeah. i need to work on gemma now, now that we are finally starting new.”

“a whole year harry,” snorts niall. “a whole fooking year and now, now is when we’re good?”

“i told trisha about julius, about what he did to me,” harry confesses. “and she didn’t run like you did. she was disgusted by what i told her,” he narrows his green eyes at him and spits, “niall.”

niall looks away, regret taking over his body. “i’m sorry.”

“save it.”

 

“so looks like harry was with trisha this whole time?” liam says. louis turns in the direction liam is pointing at: by the mini-fountain in the drive-way are trisha and harry laughing. they both run down, happy that finally, _finally_ , harry has appeared after searching for him so long. “harry,” liam cheers happily approaching him.

harry turns his head from trisha and lights up at louis. he stands up to hug him tightly, having missed him crazyily. “i missed you,” he murmurs.

“where were you?” wonders louis. he brings his face in front of harry, his arm looping around harry’s neck.

“bonding with your talkative friend,” he points to trisha with his chin, “who does not shut up.”

“oi!” she protests. “i’m not that talkative.”

“what happened?” asks liam. “where were you this whole time?”

“with trisha.”

louis turns his head to gaze at trisha, nodding, and then to liam who is suspicious, then back at harry. “did you have fun?”

“i am now.” he takes louis hand into his own, dragging him away from liam and trisha. “let’s go have that dance shall we? i heard elvis’ playing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be SAFE whenever you go out and have fun. always.


	46. 0.45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry & louis attend the the 16th annual london symphony...

**LOUIS:** Morning Styles!

 **HARRY:** Hey angel :D How was your night?

 **LOUIS:** EMOJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII =D =D =D

 **LOUIS:** Slept well. You?

 **HARRY:** I did too :] Why do people think I never use emojis?

 **LOUIS:** Rarely*

 **LOUIS:** What’s for breakfast?

 **HARRY:** Too much. Honestly, why do the chefs cook so much when I don’t even eat it?!

 **LOUIS:** Eat the crepes. They’re the most delicious breakfast food your chefs makes.

 **HARRY:** With or without Nutella?

 **LOUIS:** WITH**

 **LOUIS:** WHAT THE FOOK!? NOT A QUESTION. And roll it like a burrito.

 **HARRY:** You spend too much time on food. I didn’t even know you could put ANYTHING on a crepe. I just ate it like that.

 **LOUIS:** YOU’RE A DISGRACE STYLES!!

 **HARRY:** I’m not a foodie :P

 **HARRY:** DO NOT SAY “EMOJIIIIIII!”

 **LOUIS:** YOU SUCK!

 **HARRY:** And swallow ;)

 **LOUIS:** Too early!

 **HARRY:** After spreading Nutella on it, I just eat it like that?

 **LOUIS:** Yup, with a drink. Tea… I recommend highly

 **HARRY:** Coffee is the deal. With coconut.

 **LOUIS:** *pukes*

 **HARRY:** YOU’RE HORRIBLE :’[

 **LOUIS:** EMOJIIIIIIIIIII…. I had to Sorry

 **LOUIS:** The train is here. See you in class?

 **HARRY:** See you later, Foodie xxxx

 **LOUIS:** L8r Alligator! xx

 

it is as if the events of last night did not take place. everyone is back to their normal selves as if niall’s party had never happened at all. the only thing that has changed is niall’s ban: it has been lifted.

harry opens his locker on this sunny school day while liam moans and whines besides him about barabara, how she left his life without a word, and now he is all alone,and sad. and misses her terribly. harry has not told him about what he did to her, and the deal he made with niall that made her leave their high school without a word. for good. and no, he will not tell liam because that would break him. besides, liam followed niall’s ban, so he does not owe liam an explanation on the whereabouts of his girlfriend. ex-girlfriend.

he shuts his locker, having gotten all of his english textbooks and they both walk down the school hallway. it is back to normal, lots of winks and kisses being sent harry’s way even moreso now because of the upcoming july debutante ball. everyone wants to go with harry as their date and it is like a warzone as everyone is doing anything possible to be the one harry can call as _his_ date for the legendary debutante ball.

he politely smiles at a black-haired girl, and turns his attention to liam. “honestly, forget about her. she wasn’t worth your trouble. you won the stupid bet with niall of who can get her first, why are you still—”

liam interrupts. “because i love her. i really did.”

“liam doesn’t love,” he jokes and liam rolls his eyes, punching him on the arm. “what? it’s true.”

“not with barbara.”

“maybe niall was better in flirting and sex,” winks harry, his white sparkling teeth showing.

liam gasps at him, horrified he can even suggest such a thing. “never. i’m better than niall at everything and anything.”

“not in all areas.”

they both walk into their english class (in the languages block), harry letting liam walk through the door first, mrs maths having not arrived yet despite them being 20 minutes late, and sit in the sixth row. from the corner of harry’s eyes, he can see one girl purposely walking fast to sit on the chair in front of their table, soon, two seat behind him, and soon enough, all the seats near harry and liam’s table are occupied by a swarm of perfumed girls.

“it’s time for a new challenge liam,” harry tells liam, his hand on his shoulder. “you need to find a new person to hold your hand for the debutante ball.”

liam scoffs, sliding down his seat. “easy for you to say, you literally have the whole school to choose from.”

a girl who has been eavesdropping on their conversation stands before the two of them and states, “that’s not true. we would love to take liam to the ball.”

harry flashes a grin at liam. “see?”

liam asks the standing girl, “who’s your first choice?”

“harry obviously” she says, her cheeks rosy and her eyes boring at the swallow tattoos on harry’s chest. “but you’re not bad either.” she sways her hips and palms harry’s arm. “i’m serious by the way.”

“like i said, spoilt for choice,” groans liam once the girl has gone to sit somewhere near their table. “how haven’t you chosen a date yet? you’d already be having one if we had this ball last year.”

harry shrugs. “no pressure for me. i’m not really feeling it.”

“not feeling it?” liam asks in disbelief, stressing on every word. he frowns, his eyes giving harry a once-over. “what do you mean ‘not feeling it’?”

“i don’t know,” he says lightly. “plus we’re only in june so we’ve got literally a whole 3 weeks to prepare for the ball. but before, we’ve got exams, mrs maths alien video project, the semi-final volleyball game with our rival school, the paris and frankfurt fashion shows which i’m actually more excited for, and not mentioning that stupid school event we all have to go for.”

“bin tin?” asks liam, and harry nods. “it’s not bad. i have fun. louis and i always have a blast at bin tin.”

“guess who’s flying to tokyo that week?” harry groans. “me.”

“your father’s company?”

the three girls sitting in front of their table all turn at the same exact time (harry finds it creepy) and the one on the far left asks, “who’s your date harry?”

“date for?” he asks, feigning ignorance. the three girls gawk in astonishment while liam is smiling hard to himself.

“the debutante ball,” the one sitting on the far right stresses, startled that harry would even ask such a thing.

“oh that,” he says dismissively. he leans into his chair, boredom seeping in through his body. he takes a deep breath before looking back up at the three girls.

“yes, that.” the one in the middle leans on harry and liam’s desk, her cleavage deepening. “are you going?”

“i don’t know,” he says in a monotone avoiding looking down at her chest. from the corner of his eye he can see liam staring, practically drooling.

“who’s your date?” she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

“i don’t have one.”

“how come?” pouts the one sitting on the far right. liam laughs by himself, watching the three girls trying hard, their faces caked with make-up and harry acting as if he does not know what they are doing.

“nobody’s has interested me,” he says gazing at the one sitting in the middle. with the pad of his index finger, he trails it from her neckline up to the tip of her chin and rests it there. the girl’s eyes are lit up, shining under the fluorescent lighting, her glossy lips parted that harry just did that to her. they two make eye contact, the two girls besides the middle one are silent and liam amused by it all. “maybe someone will.”

her cheeks fade to a deep crimson color. “maybe.”

 

after their english lesson where mrs maths finally showed up, liam and harry discover their geography class had been cancelled and with a happy sigh, they have a free lesson. sadly it is short-lived when an assistant teacher comes in class stating that they are to go to the library and write a five-page assignment about the different mountains of africa.

“ugh,” harry grunts plopping down on his library seat. “why did he have to come to school?”

“who?”

liam and harry turn their heads to a girl standing before their table in a tight forest green dress, with matching green nails and a cotton candy voice. she points to the chair between harry and liam and asks, “may i?”

“of course,” liam agrees enthusiastically. harry shoots daggers across the table at him as she sits down. “what’s your name?” she giggles at harry stating her name as olivia. liam interjects her loving gaze at harry and complimenting her, “what a wonderful dress you’re wearing.”

“it’s ysl,” she says winking at harry. everyone in school knows that harry is a sucker for designer labels, especially ysl and gucci. “i love their new flower, red lace collection. absolute marvellous.”

“i love their boots,” liam chips in.

“have you gotten their latest collection?” harry asks beaming. “it literally came out yesterday!”

“the fur mixed with silk?” she asks, matching his excitement. he nods, words unable to be uttered.  “yes, yes! i am going tomorrow today to get it. i placed my order at 5 in the morning because i was absolutely stoked to get it.” she rests her palm on his toned bicep. “we can get ours tomorrow if you’d like.”

he hums, leaning towards her. “i’d love too.”

“that’s great,” she leans forward too. “are you going to wear it for the debutante ball?”

“i’ll be wearing jivanchi,” liam says and the both of them ignore him completly.

“i’m not sure if i’m even going,” he says in his faux-sad voice. “what’s he point of dressing up if there’s nobody to show it to?”

“i’ll be there,” she says, winking. her palm strokes his collarbones and trail up his neck and her two fingers tilt harry’s chin to her. “and i’ll be wearing it.”

“maybe we can match,” he winks.

“if you’re even coming,” she points out, her voice in a low husk. she leans her head forward and presses her lips to harry’s. harry watches her eyes close, and from somewhere to his left he can hear liam snickering. she leans back slightly grinning at harry all lovely dovey.

“i’ll think about it,” harry tells her, gently removing her hand from his chin. “if not, then i’ll be going with liam.”

she turns her eyes to liam, stares at him as her lips curl in a nasty snarl, then back at harry with a neutral face. “you know rumor has it now that taylor and you are literally never getting back together, you and cathy are going to the debutante ball. are the rumors true?”

“no.” she raises her perfectly-shaped eyebrow at him, not believing him. “don’t worry olivia, cathy and i are just… not that close. it’s purely sex.”

harry sees it as soon as it is gone – the fierce jealously on her face. “rumor has it as well that louis is another choice for your date on the day.”

“well that’s new,” liam says writing something in his book. olivia turns her head at liam. “i mean, louis of all the people.”

“why not?” it is harry to speak up now. olivia’s eyes flicker to harry then back at liam. “why can’t i take louis?”

“no,” his eyes tear off his book to see harry’s slight cross face, “i didn’t mean it like that, it’s… it’s just that he’s the last person any of us would ever think of,” he gazes at olivia who nods back at him.

“is it because he’s not a girl?” he asks defensively. “can’t i not take a guy? is it so hard to believe that i can take a guy instead of a girl, like is the tradition at the debutante ball? can’t i?”

“here we go,” liam sighs, seating back in his chair. “harry getting mighty personal when he thinks people are bashing him for his sexuality.”

“we aren’t,” olivia says, her palm back on harry’s cheek. “it’s not that you are bisexual, or that it is you maybe taking a guy to the ball, it’s the fact that it’s _louis_ that is the surprise. we’d expect chuck bass, or liam here,” she says quickly glancing at liam, “or niall even, maybe captain of the hockey team, or captain of the rugby team.”

“ew! why charlier?”

“charlie is pretty handsome,” olivia defends. “but not louis.”

“he’s a marvellous person, olivia,” he says firmly. “he’s got an amazing personality and character, and if i had to choose any one person in this whole school, he’d definitely be my first choice.”

“and second?” asks olivia, getting anxious. her hopes, including every girl, and some boys, in school’s have been shaky ever since rumors spread that harry’s most likely dates for the july debutante ball were either cathy or louis. or that girl with the large forehead. anyone else was far below the list, they could not dig their way up no matter how many plastic cards their fathers owned, no matter how many snobby friends their mothers had sharing cocktails at brunch, or no matter how many zeros appeared in their bank accounts.

this is why people in school wondered what cathy and louis had that was so special. they were a bunch of nobodies!

well perhaps just louis. he is a tomlinson for fook’s sake!

“what’s so different about louis and cathy?” asks olivia.

“they know that tight dresses, random kisses, low hemlines and necklines will not work on me,” he says blankly. olivia presses her glossy lips together, and nods quickly. she gets up from her chair, her  costly ysl bag firmly resting on her shoulder.

“i’m not one to give up on what i want harry,” she says. “i know you and i will walk up those steps at the debutante ball, showing the world that we are not to be messed with, that we are perfect. it won’t be louis, nor cathy but me.” harry smiles, nodding at her. he does love an ambitious person, definitely a turn on.

“what about me?” liam asks.

olivia rolls her eyes. “you’re reeking of your break-up with barbara and its stinks. nobody will come near you even if you had sparks of real gold all over your body.” with that, olivia makes her way out of the library, another girl making her way to harry and liam’s table, attempting her shot at being harry’s date. olivia, thankfully, finds louis talking with a red-headed girl out in the school’s courtyard.

“louis!” she cries out, faking her smile and joy at spotting him. “where’ve you been?”

louis blinks. “uh… do i know you?” she holds out her hand for a handshake and introducing herself. “hi olivia.”

“rumor has it that you and harry are going together for the debutante ball,” she says as a matter-of-fact. louis’ eyes enlarge, his brows rising to his hairline. “are they true?”

“uh…”

“quite frankly no one cares if they are true because you two are not together nor are you having sex, so i’m just wondering why harry would want you. i mean i understand cathy as a choice, she is rich, hot and her father owns a chain of excellent bed businesses, but you?” she pauses and straes up and down at him, with so much grimace. “i see nothing.”

louis sighs. this is not the first girl to approach him asking him if he is going with harry for the july debutante ball. many have bombarded  him literally from the moment he stepped in the school building at 8:00am, with girls asking him the same question, then making fun of him for not being as rich and fancy as the rest of the school, then another comes up, then another, and another... 

however, he has played with the idea of being harry’s date to the ball. it would be awesome to go with harry, not because he _is_ the harry styles but because he genuinely enjoys being with harry. he knows, too, that harry feels the same way. however he has not thought about harry romantically, i mean he once or twice, maybe 75 times, did wank off to thoughts of harry donned in a flowery ysl button-up, but that is all it has ever been. yet he cannot stop imagining what it would be like to _be_ harry’s.

“so?” olivia asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. thankfully for him, the bell rings indicating it is time for the next class. he walks off, olivia following him closely. “you’re not walking away from me louis without answering the question.”

he stops on his heels and turns around. she stops walking fast, a little surprised at his abruptness. “if you want harry to take you why don’t you stop worrying about me and actually do something to impress him other than,” – his gaze flickers to her short dress then back at her face – “wearing tight, slutty dresses.”

she is left stunned, along with eavesdroppers, and watches him enter class 044. it is biology, his worst subject and harry’s favourite. he finds him sitting on the class sofa that is by the window chatting to another girl whose skirt hemline has ridden high on her moisturized skin. harry’s bored face lights up upon seeing louis. he gets off the couch, the girl huffing in annoyance, and embraces louis in a tight hug.

“i missed you in geography today,” harry breathes, still in their embrace. louis is the first to break their hug, eyes glancing at them secretly.

“trisha told me there was no class so i went to the courtyard to finish my history assignment,” explains louis.

“i love your shoes,” harry says. louis looks down at his feet – a pair of vans that harry once bought for him as a present – then at his smiling face. louis playfully hits harry’s ankles with his foot. “ouch!”

“c’mon, i have something to give you,” louis encourages. harry nods as he runs his fingers through his hair. “where do we seat?”

“uh excuse me?” the girl says, standing very close to harry than is comfortable. “but harry and i were in the middle of something.”

“we were _done_ ,” he says plainly, stressing on the last word. bumping shoulders with her , he grabs louis’ hand and leads him to the back of the class. louis sits on top of the table, and harry on a chair in sandwiched between louis’ legs. just as they are sitting down, liam, gigi and zayn walk in class, laughing at whatever it is they are laughing at. “what’s up?”

“how goes the line of questions about who’s your date for the ball?” mocks louis and harry groans into his hands. he takes harry’s hands off his face and plants them on his thighs. “i’m just messing with you.”

harry’s arms loosely snake around his hips. “it’s not that, it’s just that it’s annoying because it’s the same boring conversation over and over again.”

“i’m sure king styles can handle it.”

harry lays his head on louis thigh, laughing quietly. “not really.” he loves the feeling of louis carding his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, and not even liam’s voice can drift him off his trance.

“is he sleeping?” asks liam.

“nah, probably just tried,” louis guess and harry tugs on louis shirt. “did you watch the man u game last night?”

“don’t remind me!”

“chelsea was trashed mate,” laughs louis, his fingers running through harry’s hair.

harry listens to louis and liam talk all things football, his mind lulling to the sounds of mozart’s classics playing in his head. as well as imagining himself graduate from ivy leagues some time in the future. or walking up the stairs at the debutante ball. as much as he is telling everyone that he is not psyched for the ball, he secretly is. he cannot wait to pick out his suit and tie, his top notch boots, the amount of massages he will go for at the spa, the pedicures he will get that will most likely match his bow tie, sitting for hours doing his hair and eyebrows which he knows will be worth it in the end, but all this excitement will be for nothing if he cannot go with the one he wants. louis, of course.

yes, he thinks correctly. he _does_ want to go with louis. and this is where all of his excitement starts wavering. firstly, it is not his parents first choice as an escort to the ball, they would much rather prefer taylor waldorf as his perfect date. his father would vote for taylor because she is _the_ daughter of daddy taylor and his mother because taylor is the kind of daughter his mother never had. louis is not exactly rich. in fact he is not rich at all, he is _normal_ rich which is painful to think about. his friends do not approve if he is quite honest. perhaps only liam and mckenzie do approve and harry is not one to ignore his friend’s opinions unless of course he simply does not care about them.

lately that is what he has been doing: not caring. with niall’s ban, only three people in the entire school talked to him: louis, trisha and mckenzie. and now that the ban is off and the debutante ball is happening, everybody suddenly is talking to him as if the last three weeks never happened at all. although louis would not be an ideal choice for the ball, he would be the perfect one for him. harry knows he would have _a blast_ with louis even if all they did was sit in their seats watching people dance all around them the entire time while sipping glasses of champagne.

he turns his head around to look through the window, tightening his left arm around on louis’ lower back, his head resting on louis’s left thigh. he twists the silver crown ring louis gave him around his middle finger and a small smile spreads on his rosy lips. liam and louis still chatting about football, somewhere near liam is gigi and zayn laughing heartedly with each other. just then a staff member walks in class announcing that the teacher shall not be attending class and luckily has not left any assignment. people gather their belongings all too happily for having a free lesson.

“are you guys heading for the bake sale?” asks zayn and harry nods against louis’ thigh.

liam cheers. “perfect. i heard ky baked the red velvet so you know they’re good.”

“who’s ky?” asks louis. harry gets off louis’ thigh, already missing the spot, and grabs his bag, same with louis.

“kyner,” says liam. “who doesn’t know kyner?”

“me.”

“you’re not missing much,” mums harry in louis’ ear. the four boys and one girl head out to the bake sale event happening outside in the parking lot. there are lots of cakes and cupcakes, including other pastries that are just as delicious. the six people lose each other in the crowds, harry and louis walking along together to the cupcake section first. louis pulls harry’s hand hard, stopping him from walking on. he turns around and finds louis paying for a tiny cupcake the size of his thumb.

“try this,” louis insists. he holds the cupcake by harry’s mouth. “it’s sent from heaven. literally.” harry laughs then, holding onto louis’ fingers, guides the cupcake into his mouth. his mouth moves in circular motion, humming at the sweet taste of it. he nods his head, approving it and then guides the cupcake in louis mouth.

“there’s a hint of mango isn’t there?” asks louis. harry nods, licking off the cream on his own thumb. he throws the cupcake wrapper as louis states, “it’s not overpowering like most cupcakes but you can still taste it.”

“i say we get that chocolate velvet one,” says harry pointing at a cake stand. they do, louis beating harry at paying for it, and they make their to harry’s black matte audi in the same parking lot. louis sits on the bonnet of the car, harry standing between his legs.

“that was delicious,” hums louis taking the last remainings of the cake.

“one last piece left,” says harry dancing his fork in front of louis. “here.” he inches the fork to louis mouth but the boy donned in a tank top shakes his head. “c’mon, don’t be a pain.” harry brings his palm to the back of louis neck, his thumb grazing the base of his skull. “it’s tasty.” louis shakes his head, his lips trembling not to break into a laugh. “fine then. i propose we cut it in half.”

“how?”

“you take the half from me,” says harry. before louis can question what he means, harry places the cake cube into his mouth halfway and gazes at louis through his thick eyelashes. he slowly brings louis face towards him with the hand on the back of louis’ neck, and louis fisting his fingers in harry’s ysl-flowered shirt. his lips brush softly with harry’s as he bites onto half of the cake.

louis and harry chew their cakes in silent. their noses brushing each other as they swallow the cake, harry hearing louis take a large gulp. louis tugs on the hairs on harry’s neck, pulling his face slightly back, and harry’s rubbing up and down on louis beautiful thighs.

“please?” asks harry softly, his chocolate velvet breath warming louis’ thin lips. not trusting his voice, louis half nods before harry presses softly on them. his kiss is as soft as the chocolate cake they have eaten. it is not rushed like most of the people harry has kissed, nor sloppy, or taken a turn to saliva city, not forgetting the ones who have probably never heard of toothpaste, or gum. louis is caring and he loves it.

louis’ cheeks are bright red when they both break from their kiss. louis’ gaze looks anywhere but at harry’s dreamy, green eyes. “come with me tonight?”

“where?” wonders harry. he steals a closed kiss from a giggly louis’ lips. “i love your laugh by the way.”

“thank you,” mumbles louis, his gaze falling to his thighs where harry’s large hands have flattened themselves. “um… i know how much you love classical music, especially mozart and whatnot,” he lifts his gaze to harry’s glittery eyes, “and there was a symphony playing tonight at the o2 arena at 9:00 and i thought, maybe,” he inhales deeply, “you’d love to…uh, come with me. if you want. you don’t need to—”

“i’d love to. and to be honest i’m surprised.”

“how so?”

“how did you know about the symphony being performed tonight? plus getting tickets is really hard, unless you know someone who knows the organizer.”

“i have my ways,” winks louis.

 

**=     =     =     =**

** **

harry and louis make their way down the stairs to their red, cushioned seats at the 02 arena for the 16th annual london symphony. they are dressed to the nines: harry in a suit with a alexander mcqueen white blouse, and louis in tight black jeans, a grey t-shirt that he has covered with a black blazer (borrowed from liam) and a touch of black vans, to go with the dress code of all black. louis lets harry enter their row first, and follow them to their seats: 099 and 100, smack in the middle of the row with an amazing view of the stage that is covered with long, burgundy curtains.

“i can’t believe you wore vans and nobody has noticed yet,” says harry, chuckling a little.

“i’m iron man in case you forgot.” harry sends him a large grin and turns away to take a look at the arena, the place filling quite quickly with lots of people dressed to kill one would be mistaken thinking this was a fashion show. “i’m sorry if you had other plans today and i took—”

“nonsense,” harry interrupts him by shaking his head. “there’s no place i’d rather be.”

louis looks away from the bright grin on harry’s lips, begging himself not to blush. he, lamely, picks up the program leaflet and covers his red face. he reads through it, wanting to see what shall be playing tonight. he sees a lot of mozart, bach, tchaikovsky, and others, and the only one on that list he knows is mozart, not in-depth of course. he has not even heard of the tchaikovsky lad until today. he looks at harry with the corner of his eye, all smiles and teeth just waiting for the show to begin.

harry reaches out and holds louis hand, tightening his hold. louis takes deep breath in, then out. he really does feel out of place. this is beyond his depths, and even if he were to get out of his comfort zone, this place would not be it. this is beyond _beyond_ his non-comfort zone. he is just happy that he has harry with him to not make him feel like a black dot on a white blank page.

“who are you excited to hear?” asks louis attempting to distract himself from his thoughts.

harry sighs happily, leaning his head on louis shoulder. “mozart because he is a music genius. i think he died too young, too beautiful, too…” he sighs unable to find the word he is looking for. he nevertheless continues, “then bach….”

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

not wanting the night to end just yet, harry suggests they go for spicy fries (his new favourite fast food) and also he is craving milkshake. louis nods and they head to a fast food chain that sells spicy fries and milkshakes. they find one, after the underground stopping quite far from the restaurant itself.

harry grins widely when he holds his tray of two servings of spicy fries and a double chocolate chip milkshake walking to a booth. louis sits diagonally from harry and slips his leg under his thigh. with a thousand and one small packets of bbq sauce on his tray, harry sprays the sauce all over his spicy fries and louis cannot help but chuckle.

“what?” harry asks sucking some sauce off his thumb. louis shakes his head. “i don’t think i’ll ever be sick of eating spicy fries.”

“what was your life before spicy fries?” louis dramatically sighs.

“shut it tomlinson,” harry sasses him, his grin turning into a chuckle.

“y’know,” louis places his glass of milkshake on the table, “i don’t think we know much about each other.”

“you know so much about me,” harry says chewing on his spicy fries. “so much more than what my other friends know and we’ve spent a much shorter time together.”

“i don’t mean it like that,” louis nervously laughs, “like i don’t know your favourite band, or your favourite pet, color, what are your likes, dislikes… you know, the normal questions.”

“like 20 questions?”

“something of the sort.”

“alright tomlinson, let’s.”

louis inahles deeply. “okay. full names.”

harry munches on two spicy fries while ansering, “harry edward styles. you?”

“louis william tomlinson but i was born austin.”

“really?”

louis nods. louis initiates the rest of the questions, each of them answering truthfully until louis cannot think of more questions by the time he reaches his sixth one. harry tells him that google shall help them in getting more questions. by then, louis’ spicy fries are over and harry offers his fries seeing as he had two servings of them. they order another round of milkshakes – and more bbq sauces – before going ahead with their game of 20 questions.

harry begins: “things you cannot leave the house without?”

“phone. you?”

“same. and an extra pair of shirt.” he asks the next question: “do you bite your nails?”

louis shakes his head. “not anymore. i used to when i was younger then it suddenly stopped. you?”

“never did. my nails would look horrid. do you drink juice?”

“do i drink juice?” louis repeats the question, his lips curling to a laugh. “where are you getting your questions from?” before harry can reply, his phone is snatched from him and louis is scrolling down harry’s phone. he opens another website and another form of 20 questions upload on the screen and he hands the phone back to harry satisfied that stupid questions will not be asked.

harry swallows the spicy fries in his mouth before asking louis the question regarding who his last kiss was. louis responds with, “you” and harry mouths same while looking down at his phone.

“girl bestfriend?” asks harry. louis responds with, “trisha.” and harry replies with, “mckenzie.”

“boy bestfriend?”

“liam,” louis says. he shifts on the booth seat, sitting with his legs criss-crossed. “you?”

“i don’t have one,” harry answers the question. “although i could say you.” he corrects himself, “actually it is you. you are my boy bestfriend.”

louis blushes and snatches harry’s phone off his hands. it is his turn to ask the questions. “longest relationship and how long?”

“taylor,” he answers while sipping his double chocolate chip milkshake. “six years. you?”

“eleanor. four years.” with his lips around the straw, louis asks: “first kiss?”

“zayn.” louis raises his eyebrows in surprise. “why do you look so surprised?”

“i just thought it’d be taylor, that’s all,” louis defends himself.

“we were playing truth or dare at niall’s party and taylor spun the bottle and it landed on kendall but she argued that it was zayn that the bottle was facing. i went along with it because i didn’t want her to…,” harry shakes his head and asks, “what about you?”

louis lets the swift shift of conversation go. “hannah. who did you lose your virginity to?”

“kendall.” he swirls a spicy fry in his bbq sauce. “same night as the truth or dare game. you?”

 “eleanor.”

“i’m seeing a pattern,” harry teases. he takes his phone off louis’ fingers and asks the next question: “ever cheat and on whom?”

“eleanor.” harry wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, his lips tugging upwards chuckling at louis. louis swats his arm playfully, before shifting on his seat. “it was with her bestfriend max. you?”

“never. i’ve thought about it.”

“with a girlfriend like taylor i’m not surprised.”

“she’s not that bad,” he says quesitly, looking down at his white, tight jeans. “there was one time i was close to cheating on her with kendall. i was drunk, we were both drunk actually, but i couldn’t do it. couldn’t do that to taylor. but being cheated on, i have many times.”

“sorry.”

shaking his head and shrugging, harry tells him, “doesn’t matter anymore.”

louis nods quietly. he shfits again on his seat and props them on the seat. he slides his toes underneath harry’s thigh to keep them warm.  “who is the person you’ve been through the most with?”

harry fish-mouths, thinking hard about it. “i hate to say taylor but it’s true. if not her then niall when he was my bestfriend.”

“taylor?”

“yes. surprisingly, we have been through a lot in the last six years, and even more. we were partners in crime. she was my best friend then, i was hers, even when we weren’t dating. it’s only when we started dating that she became a real—” the words _fooking cunt_ die on his tongue. he intead says, “insipid bitch. you?”

“my old friend oli even if he passed away some years back, i’d still say him.” harry refrains from asking more about this oli lad. he makes a mental note to ask about him later. louis asks the next question: “favourite song currently?”

“ _daddy lessons_ by beyoncé. you?”

“is that from her album ‘lemonade’?” louis asks. harry nods. “how do you know about her?”

“mckenzie has been blasting her album for a week now,” harry grunts as if tired from hearing beyoncé roar through his mansion. “honestly i think i know every line to every single song on her album. but i still like _daddy lessons_ even if it is played way too many times. yours?”

“ _secrets_ by tiësto.” louis looks down at harry’s phone for the next question. “do you own any pets?”

“i have a gold fish.” louis stifles a laugh. “what?” harry’s body shakes with contained chuckles. “i do. i got it on saturday actually.”

“you have a fish?” louis laughs out loud unable to contain it any longer. an elderly man near their booth turns his head towards their booth briefly before returning his gaze to his wife. “a fish? lemme guess, you named it something odd like mozart or money.”

“money?” harry laughs at a wide-grinning louis. “what kind of name is that for a pet?”

“i don’t know but it’s something you’d do.”

harry’s lips curl to a smile. “his name is hades.”

“hades?” louis questions dragging the word. “hades?”

“yeah,” he flatly says. “or i could rename him money hades.” louis bursts into laughter. harry is insane when it comes to naming pets, he concludes.

“only you harry, only you!” he calms down, soft giggles escaping his lips as he reads the next question. “favorite ex?”

“you didn’t say your pet. do you have another apart from your puppy?”

“nope. just her. favorite ex?”

“vanessa,” harry answers quickly. “you?”

“i don’t have a favourite ex,” louis reponds slowly as his mind races through the list of ex’s he has had. he shakes his head when no one name pops into his mind. “none. three turn ons?”

“soft hair,” harry says enthusiastically. louis narrows his left eye in amusement, his lips smirking. “legs,” harry’s finger tips travel down louis’ left leg laying casually on his thighs, “and ass. eyes too.”

“eurgh!” louis rolls his eyes. “so romantic asshead.”

“i do love pretty eyes,” he winks and louis gaze drops to harry’s phone. “you?”

 _green eyes_ , he thinks. “uh… british accents,” louis responds lamely and harry cannot help but roll his eyes plafully. “fresh breath and thighs.”

“thighs?” harry questions setting down his glass of milkshake his shoulders shaking from a compressed laughter. “how are thighs a turn on?” he wonders.

“they just are.”

“oh, tomlinson. you and your strange fetishes.”

louis mutters, “asshead” under his breath then asks, “your favourite holiday?”

“when i went to iceland to watch the northern lights with niall, liam and zayn,” harry answers with a faint smile of nostalgia on his lips. “it was sort of a boys’ thing. i mean the whole trip was fun but what i loved the most was watching the northern lights. they’re incredible,” he breathes. “you?”

“going for tomorrowland with max and eleanor some years back. i got to meet armin van buuren seeing as he was walking for his next gig and max accidentally bumped into him. it was surreal. he gave us backstage passes and—” louis inhales deeply. the excitement from the memory at tomorrowland overwhelming him. harry tucks his left arm below louis’ thighs like a mermaid. “it was a dream come true.”

“sick.” harry snatches his phone back from louis’ grasp and asks: “zodiac sign?”

“capricorn. you?”

“aquarius. your favorite cusisine?”

“easy, french,” harry cheers. “you?”

“ugh!” louis rolls his eyes. “so typically white, styles. mine is indian.”

“ugh tomlinson,” harry mocks his voice, “so typically white trying to act versatile.”

“i am,” louis says determingly. “all time favorite movie?”

“all of the _pirates of the caribbean_ sagas.”

harry snorts. “i’d think you’d say _titanic_ or something, you sap.” louis punches him across the arm, not enough to hurt him. “mine is _inception_.”

“really?” harry nods then pops two spicy fries into his mouth. “wouldn’t have pegged you for an _inception_ person. i actually don’t peg you for a movie-type of person. how come you like it so much?”

“i’ve watched it like seven times trying to understand it,” he admits. he munches three spicy fries dripping with bbq sauce.

“i watched it once and was confused as hell. let me be honest, i was watching it just because leonardo dicaprio was there.”

harry rolls his eyes, his grin wide. “typical tomlinson. only watches movies because the actors are hot.” louis challenges him by asking him to name one movie that that is so. “johnny depp in _pirates of the caribbean_.” louis huffs in defeat. “see?”

louis leans his left side against his seat mumbling, “asshead!”

“don’t you think it’s amazing that you can go through a dream and a dream and even deeper into other dreams? and to know you aren’t in a dream is having a totem that is only unique to you?”

“i think it’s creepy,” he sucks his milkshake through his black straw, “who would want to remain in a dream for nearly  20 years, or worse, 50?”

“depends,” – harry opens his mouth to munch on a spicy fry dripping with bbq sauce – “on the dream.”

“all the while in reality it’s what, 10 minutes? talk about living your entire life in a second!”

“or maybe dreams are better than reality.”

“maybe,” louis quietly says.

harry looks down at his phone for the next question. “favorite store?” he looks up at louis joyfully. “easy. ysl.”

“why did is that question there?” he shakes his head and harry laughs at him. “i have none so i’m not answering that.”

“thrift store,” harry mumbles under his breath. louis snatches the phone from him and reads the following question: “most memorable gift you’ve received?”

harry lifts his left hand into the air from underneath louis’ thighs and shows him his middle finger – at the end of his finger is  the crown ring that louis gave to him some weeks back. “this.” louis instantly blushes and his gaze dropping to his glass of mint chocolate milkshake.”you?” harry asks.

“my dad buying me my first cello.”

“you play the cello?” asks harry surprised. “since when?”

“when i was around 13, 14 and since i already played the piano, he thought i could play the cello as well. turns out i could and lottie thought she could play the cello too so she asked my dad to buy her one and so in the end, there are two tomlinson’s who play the cello. were,” he corrects himself, sadly.

“interesting,” hums harry. “a cello of all instruments.”

“of all the expensive, pricey, outrageous gifts you’ve received i still can’t believe that you think the ring i have you is the most memorableone.”

“well,” he shrugs, “that may be true. i’ve been given trips to go anywhere i like across the world from perth, cali, cape town and to iceland; i’ve once wiped out two ysl stores because it was my birthday; i’ve received hundreds of thousands of pounds in my bank account for getting straight a’s some semester back even if i already had too much money in my trust fund; i’ve gotten cars that most britons would dream of having and even those that are custom made. i get a lot of these things but what makes your gift memorable?” louis shakes his head, his gaze intense on harry. “yours is the most sentimental one i’ve ever received my whole life.”

louis scratches the back of his ear. “i’m sorry.” harry waves his hand dismissively at him and asking him the next question on the list. “someone you miss?”

“i miss my father,” he says, his voice dripping with longing. he rests his palm on harry’s shoulder gently. “surprised me, actually. just the other day i was thinking about him and no matter how hard-headed he is, aggressive, loud…,” he exhales loudly, “i still miss him.”

“it’s okay.” louis thumbs harry’s cheek. harry shakes off his trance and asks louis the same question.  louis retracts his palm from his cheek. “lottie.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine. i’ve come to terms with it,” he nods, mostly to himself, “believing that she is really gone.” swiftly he asks the next question: “your idea of a perfect date?” he smirks, making eye contact with harry. “yours is probably somewhere on a yacht, on a far off island nobody has ever heard or, or can afford? ” he teases.

“ha ha,” harry mechanically laughs. his gaze sways to his empty bags of spicy fries. “hiking up a mountain.” louis’ eyebrows raise, his lips stuck around his black straw. “i would’ve said being with the one person i want to be with on a date but you’d say i was a sap,” louis half smiles, half laughs, “ and we both know that’s you.” louis sticks out his tongue at him. “so my next ideal date is going on a hike with the person i like.” his gaze sways to louis’ gaze. “i tried to ask taylor to go on a hike with me but she said no. i even asked her to go for a picnic, or to the cinema, but all she complained about was that she can’t sit on the grass like a commoner and that cinemas have dirty floors.”

“hiking is tiring. but i see your point.” with no reason to, he says, “sorry.”

“it’s not your fault,” a light laugh escapes harry’s lips. “i just wanted a break from the top-of-the-art resturants, expensive holidays, galas,” he snorts, “the lot. for once i wanted something normal. like this.” he picks up a spicy fry and dips it into the bbq sauce. “this is perfect.” louis’ gaze drops to his knee which is resting on top of harry’s thigh and softly smiles. “what’s yours?”

“basically any football match and i’m yours forever,” louis winks and harry’s lips tug upwards. “major celebrity crush?”

“ed sheeran. yours?”

“david beckham,” louis swoons. “he’s perfect. his legs, his eyes, his cars, his beard, his entire family!” he leans his head on harry’s shoulders, sighing happily. “they’re all perfect.”

“alright mrs beckham,” harry winks and louis wastes no time in swatting his arm. louis shakes off his vans, not liking the feeling of wearing shoes for some time now. he then stretches his legs over harry’s thighs, again, who smiles down at louis’ knees. “by the way,” he looks up to louus’ blue eyes, “i think 20 questions is the most fun game we’ve ever done together.”

“oi! we’ve done other fun things together.” harry shakes his head, his lips pressed together in a shrug. “what are the 3 things that annoy you?”

“niall,” he grunts. “the london buses and david cameron.”

“what?” louis laughs. “most people would say bugs, dirty plates, heck even the weather but not _david cameron_!”

“he’s annoying by coming up with the idea to leave the eu…” he rolls his eyes, “but fine, whatever, let me change. instead of david i say… i don’t know actually. i’m at a loss, i don’t know. tell me yours as i think of mine.”

“dirty floors,” louis raises his thumb, “chewing loudly,” he raises his index finger and then his middle finger as he says, “pens without their caps. so annoying when you have a pen without a cap and then you get pen marks everywhere all because someone forgot to put back its cap.”

“so much rage for a pen cap,” harry chortles. he palms louis’ thigh then rests his hand on louis’ knees. “i can’t find my third thing that annoys me so let’s move on.”

“what is something that is constatntly on your mind?”

 _kissing you_ , he answers mentally. his gaze falls on louis’ shoulder as he thinks about what is constantly on his mind. or what _else_ is on his mind. truthfully it is louis… but he cannot say that. instead he says, “where i’ll be going this summer. i can’t decide between san diego or honk kong.”

“go to the place you’ve never been.”

“i haven’t been to both. although if you’ve been to one place in cali you’ve been to the rest of the state. perhaps i’ll go to honk kong this summer with mckenzie and zayn.”

“zayn?”

“yeah,” harry nods, “the three of us decided to spend our summers together. zayn is breaking up with gigi when we close for the summer and i don’t want him to be alone so i told k we’d all go together.”

“how do you know he’s breaking up with gigi?” louis wonders.

“haven’t you heard the rumors?” asks harry incredulously . “do you live under a rock tomlinson?”

“shut it asshead! but seriously….”

“most rumors in school end up being true so i guess it is. either way, the three of us are going to either san diego or honk kong. what about you?”

“i’ll be in london for the summer.”

“i meant what  is something that is constantly on your mind?”

louis laughs nervously, scratching the back of his ear. “where i’ll be working for the summer,” louis answers. “during our long easter holidays i worked at toys ‘r’ us and got fired for playing the pianos to people.”

“why? wouldn’t you get promoted because you’re showing customers that the merchandise works?”

“it’s against work policy to use the merchanidses, or whatever that pothead told me. i ended up setting up the trampoline for daisy and phoebe the entire holiday.”

“you know what else is on my mind?” harry asks. his gaze trails down from louis’ ocean blue eyes to his rosy lips. “kissing you.”

he watches louis moisten his lips mouthing, “do it.” harry locks his eyes with louis before locking his lips with the boy. it is a closed kiss, however he can still taste louis sending him on a frenzy. if he is dizzy by the mere touch of his lips, what happens when they both have an open mouth kiss?

harry is the first to break the kiss, slowly opening his eyes to match louis’ gaze of wonder. louis’ gaze wavers down to his half-empty mint chocolate milkshake sitting on the table, feeling his cheeks burning under harry’s soft gaze and grinning lips.

“do you make good grades?” harry interrupts their silence. he looks up from his phone and louis shakes his head. “what are they?”

louis bites down on his tongue before answering, “i mostly get bs to be honest. cs here and there, mostly in the humanities subjects like geo, history and the other one. you?”

“straight as.”

“in everything?” asks louis in wonder.

“apart from chemistry where i get a-minuses…,” he raises his eyes to a stunned louis. “why are you so surprised?”

“you’ve skipped more classes than attended, you’re constantly flying out to different parts of the world while school is in session, you’re rarely studying for exams, you give other people your assingments to do for you in exchange for sex, and let’s not forget you’re always at some party—”

“all true,” harry laughs lowly, “but for the sex thing that was twice,” he holds up two fingers, “not a habit. but i do pay attention in class and make up for lost time by staying up all night to the wee hours of the morning. i have to if i’m ever going to get into an ivy league; can’t afford to get anything below an a even in chemistry. hate that subject with all my heart.”

“thankfully i don’t take it,” louis beams, “or else i’d be dying like you.”

“have you been in a threesome?” asks harry. he has twinkles in his eyes while looking at him.

“nope. you?”

“yeah, several times,” he says waving his hand (with the crown ring) in the air. louis asks him to briefly elaborate. “one time we were at some party thrown by one of zayn’s friends and there was this girl who was really into zayn and because zayn and i entered together, she thought we were dating. we lied because she got turned on by gay men, and i wanted sex,” he shrugs, “two birds one stone.”

“you lied you were dating zayn?”

“he didn’t mind. then she asked if she can bring her friend, for then that threesome turned to a foursome.” louis is gaping at him now. “what a night!”

“a foursome?!”

“i was young, and wilder then tomlinson,” harry chuckles,  running his fingers through his hair, “give me a break.”

“fine, fine.”

“how you do feel right now?” he asks reading the question from his iphone 9+.

“bloated,” he answers. “you?”

harry looks at him straight in the eye and says, “blissful.” louis holds his gaze for a second and a half then to his empty glass of milkshake on the table. “three things that make you happy?”

“my sisters,” louis answers in a heart beat returning his gaze at harry. “even if they are annoying as fook sometimes. playing football and playing the cello. you?”

“being around you,” harry grins, tightening his grasp of louis’ legs, “i somehow just seem to be happy always. my adventures with k driving around london for fun and my father’s yacht.”

not using the list with the questions, louis asks, “three fears?”

harry momentarily stares at louis before placing his iphone on the table. “you first.”

louis fish-mouths thinking what he is really afraid of. “truthfully?” harry nods. “losing another member of my family like i did with lottie. my second fear is clowns. my third is that i may never stop smoking.”

“you will if you find a strong will to.”

“that’s just it; i don’t have a good enough reason to quit. apart from the obvious ones like my health, horrible breath, second-hand smoke to those around me, but that’s not enough for me to quit and i fear that i won’t find a reason to.”

“you will, i know you will,” harry smiles reassuringly, “you have a way with finding reasons for everything. remember you found a reason for me to stay?” a ghost smile appears on louis’ lips. “you will find your own.”

“what are your three fears?”

“i overcame my fear of not getting accepting into harvard university and yale university. even though i didn’t got get into yale out of my own merits, i still got in. i, however, sent my letter declining my acceptance to yale.” louis loudly gasps, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. “i still have to tell my mother about that.”

“why?”

“my mother bribed the dean among other things for me to get in. at least with harvard i know i got in on my own merit.”

louis nods in understanding. “your other two fears?”

“i used to be scared of swimming pools but somehow conquere d that.” he pauses before continuing, “i don’t know when i’ll see my sister next. she may be stuck where she is for eight years, 12 years, who knows and it’s beyond my control, beyong my family’s control. my father wants her to be kept in their as much as possible and my mother could care less then there’s me who’s helpless because i cannot help her. when i see her next i could be 31-years old living with my family and we’ll have missed so many years together.”

louis squeezes harry’s shoulder. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine. my last fear is you.”

louis frowns. “me? how me?”

“i’m scared of losing you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i OUTDID myself but probably it's not even that long..


	47. 0.46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry fails to convince louis to talk to his biological father but tries in other ways...

“i heard something the other day,” harry says handing the cashier his credit card. louis nods for him to continue. “not really heard but watched on tv. not really tv but more like laptop—”

harry’s shopping buddies need to be greatly changed. greatly. his first shopping buddy by default has always been taylor, his ex-girlfriend. his second one is mckenzie but she is too busy sucking someone’s rich penis so she is never available. his other is liam but liam is not much of a shopper and then his list ends there. sure if he asked any girl in school they would happily accompany him shopping for the july debutante ball but it would all be a bore for him, maybe apart from cathy who he finds witty.

“laptop?” louis questions. “what happened to your home cinema?”

harry smiles at the cashier who returns his credit card. he informs the cashier, sandra, that his chauffeur shall be picking up his garments in five minutes. harry is starting to think that perhaps louis should be at the top of his shopping buddies, perhaps louis should have been at the top this whole time. if only he met him earlier.

he replies to him, “sometimes it gets boring watching something on a big screen.”

“what were you watching?” asks louis. he sits down on a circular stone seat while harry placies his knuckles above his skinny jeans waistband. “what? i’m exhausted. honestly, there are better things to be doing on a saturday afternoon that shop for the debutante ball next month.”

“last minute shopping is for lazy pigs,” harry spits. he wants to sit near louis but opts for standing before him, slowly sipping his cold, blue slushie.

“oi!” louis calls out, “what did you watch?”

“oh right.” harry nods, taking his lips off the straw. “i was watching this series called _touch_ and since you’re a big believer in love at first sight—”

louis protests. “i am not!”

harry nevertheless continues. “they talked about the whole world being controlled by numbers and the ratio of those numbers is the same. however they talked about something linked to fate and destiny, and all that crap. they said there is an ancient chinese myth about the red thread of fate that believes the gods have tied a red thread around our ankles and it is attached to all the people we are destined to touch. it may be stretched, tangled but it’ll never break because like you always say, you can’t stop fate.”

“you really can’t,” louis beams up at him. “but no, i’ve never heard of the red fate. it’s beautiful really.”

he slurps his slushie. “it is.”

“what’s the show called?”

“ _touch_. we can… should… ,” his gaze falls to several people walking to some shop to his right side, “if you want to, like, watch it together.”

“if it’s about two people finding each other because it’s their fate, you know i’m all over it,” louis giggles, “is it though?”

“yeah,” harry cheerily nods, “this autistic kid reads numbers like how we read letters and the numbers are somehow like stamps of fate, whoever had the same number is bound to meet with the other.”

“but how were you watching _touch_ instead of _house of cards_?”

“meh,” harry shrugs, his lips curved around the black straw. “i took a break from _house of cards_.”

“if i do know you well,” louis smiles, standing before harry, “you are a _house of cards_ person not a _new girl_ sort of lad.”

harry chuckles, turning his back from louis and walking forth. louis rolls his eyes, getting off the stone seat, and walking in par with the taller british boy. “you literally watched all the three seasons over and over again, and again, you even mumble some of frank’s script when he talks.”

“frank is vile, but he’s perfection.”

“perfect?” he pries harry’ slushie  from his fingers, and takes a sip of it. “he’s a fooking snake!”

“you haven’t seen him in season 3, he gets better than what he was in season 1,” harry defends the main character of the series _house of cards_. “plus he is just overly ambitious, that’s all he is. nothing wrong with that.”

“when you hurt the people who help you climb the ladder?” questions louis, “i don’t think so.” louis abruptly pulls harry’s wrist that is not holding his own slushie into the skates acid store that solely sells tank tops. solely. much to harry’s surprise, the store does well in sales and is normally packed with customers. and skateboards.

“i can’t believe skate acid sell skateboards and tank tops…” harry slurps more of his blue slushie. his eyes linger on a teen with a skateboard stuffed into his skates acid backpack. walking behind louis, he says, “of all the combinations.”

“i need to buy the new collection of burgundy tank tops,” louis glees, his eyes wide and glittering “they came in last week.”

“hmm, and here you always make fun of me for running to the ysl store because of a new collection.”

“that’s ’cause you go the second you get a mobile notification.”

“plus why are we even here?” questions harry. they stop before a range of burgundy colored tanks tops, a full five stacks of them, almost a sea of burgundy is harry is being honest. “we should be buying our tux and shoes for the debutante ball not tank tops that are a color that is not in your closet.”

“burgundy!” louis exclaims. he repeats, “burgundy,” his eyes fixated on the man drinking his slushie. “are you not hearing me?”

harry shrugs. “now i know how you feel when i talk about the new silk shirts from gucci.”

 

 

after shopping for a couple more hours in the saturday afternoon, harry ignores the plenty of messages on his phone asking him if he is attending niall’s party, when he will be coming for niall’s party, and why he is not _here_ yet! he places his phone on the white, vintage table and walks across to his bed where louis is, flipping through his magazines, specifically _marie claire_ , _vogue paris_ and _hello_ (only for dirt on the royal family).

“what are you reading on?” harry asks, his knee on the edge of his bed, his hands pulling him onto the bed. he lays his head on louis’ stomach, his eyes gazing up at louis holding the magazine above his head at arm’s length. 

he shuts the magazine, flipping it to his side. “why aren’t you at niall’s party?”

“i don’t want to go,” harry says. he turns onto his stomach his face towards louis’ clean shaven hin. “you party so many times in your life you get bored. everything becomes boring: the cigarettes, the shots, the bottles, the bongs, the pipes, the music, the girls, and boys, and the sex. it all becomes a bore.” quietly he adds, “you become numb to it.”

“harry hates sex now?” louis muses. “surprise surprise.”

“shut up,” cackles harry, palming louis chest. “everything’s a chore now… almost everything.”

louis sits up on his elbows looking below at harry’s blank facial expression. “almost?”

“almost. there are some things that are timeless.” louis cheeks turn rosy, his eyes flickering to the left of harry’s sharp white bedroom. he feels harry’s warm fingers cup his chin, turning his head down at him. their gaze meet, louis’ eyes dancing between harry’s green eyes. “you’re timeless to me and… i’m… i’m ecstatic that you’re my friend.”

“you have niall now, always had liam, zayn, cathy, mckenzie, the blond girl with killer legs…”

“nah,” harry slightly shakes his head. “it’s not the same. they don’t like taking as many selfies like me.” louis laughs at the comment, burying his head in his right hand. “with far too many faces with tongue.”

“tongue?”

“tongues,” he laughs out. louis shifts on the bed, laying down on his stomach with harry, the younger one throwing his arm on louis’ back, their cheeks pressed to the white duvet. harry brings his fingers to brush louis’ forehead, swiping his fringe from his chop suey eyelashes.

“my biological father’s name is mark,” states louis as harry’s fingers card through his chocolate hair. “mark troy. i was 14 at the time and it was during that summer, i was going to build a tree house with me best mate oli and dad, and then lottie would paint it with mama when we finished it. that was the plan anyway.” he rolls his eyes. “mark told us that he had to focus on his art and would need to do it here in london as we lived in doncaster then, and nobody in donny was buying art.

“so he left to sell his paintings. oli and i began the tree house but it wasn’t enough, we kept stepping on nails, the hammer barely missing our thumbs, working till late and oli almost crashing his skull. summer came and went and he wasn’t back. soon it was almost christmas and i had this odd feeling that he wasn’t coming back home. mama couldn’t see it, lottie neither, the twins were too young at the time but the feeling kept nagging me.”

harry slips his leg under louis’ ankle who then bends his leg at the knee on top of the back of harry’s thigh. harry’s fingers are deep in louis’ hair, softly playing with it and listening to louis’ dreamy voice.

“on my birthday i took the train to london, mine and oli’s first time,” he smiles a little, “and it was heart-wrenching. i told mama that oli and i were meeting his mates and then we’d go to my surprise birthday party. i told oli some lie, tracked down mark living in primrose hill with his brunette girlfriend who is an accountant.”

“what’s her name?” harry asks, almost in a whisper.

“miranda,” he pauses. his eyes drift somewhere behind harry’s head.  “she was gorgeous, witty, i can see why mark would be interested in her. i mean i was angry he chose her not mama but i can’t blame her.” he looks harry in the eye. “so i told mark, sitting across from him on the table for tea, that he either comes back home where we are all waiting for him, or he packs and leaves. for nearly five months mama kept waiting for the doorbell to ring, mark standing there, lottie waiting for a dad who’d take her for her middle school graduation, the twins waiting for a father to sing them a lullaby to sleep…”

“and you?”

“waiting for someone to finish the tree house with,” he says sadly. “i came back on christmas day, the day after my birthday, waiting for mark to show up. he never did. mama eventually got the hint that he left, lottie….” he inhales through his mouth, his eyes downcast. he shuts his eyes the feel of harry fingers thumbing his neck soothingly. “we packed up and moved to belfast where mama met mr tomlinson. life was good, for a while anyway.”

“all that matters is that life is good now.”

“i don’t hate him as much as mark because he helped us all, greatly. that’s why i didn’t change my last name when mama married daniel. i love him to bits, don’t get me wrong, and he’s made mama the happiest, but there are some things that you can’t shake off i guess.”

“i get it,” harry presses his lips to louis’ temple gently. “do you know where mark is?”

“looks like his art paid off, he’s the current owner of mark gallery.” harry gasps. he _knows_ who mark is now. mark is the owner of the exclusive mark gallery that has exquisite, mind fucking paintings that are powerful yet subtle, soft yet hard, and to purchase one, would not only require an arm and a leg, but your entire body. rumor has it that he only sells to the royal family… unless your credit card, nay credit cards have enough zeros for his taste.

“i… i had no idea that was your dad,” he stutters still in complete shock.

“nobody ever guesses so. apart from chuck bass who somehow figured it out.”

“how?”

“he wanted to buy a painting for mckenzie and he was asking me a way to get him to buy a painting for a cheaper price.”

“chuck bass can’t afford a painting?” muses harry, “surprise surprise.” louis abruptly sits up, confusion spread all over harry’s rosy face. “what?”

“let’s go for a swim.”

“it’s cold outside.”

“it’s june, it’s meant to be hot.” louis leans in, his warm breath on harry’s lips. “don’t be a spazz asshead. let’s go to the pool.”

before harry can protest, louis is out of his bedroom door, racing to the outdoor pool in the cool, warm breeze of the june summer. he meets louis jumping into the pool in his briefs a splash hole forming after his jump.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

louis drops his black school bag by the door along with his skateboard on a tuesday, the events of the school day tiring especially football practice after school that went on for two hours. his father tells him that a delivery was made not that long ago and it is in his room. curiously, he walks up the stairs, fizzy tailing behind him.

“i wonder what is it,” fizzy speaks behind louis who is unwrapping brown paper surrounding his delivery. “wow!”

it is a metre-long painting from mark’s gallery, his biological father. the painting is of a tree house, with three characters sitting inside the fully built tree house, painted in red and white – the colors of his favourite football team, liverpool football club. all that louis can recognize: mark, himself and lottie. they are gazing up at the night sky, full of yellow stars and a shooting star somewhere in the corner of the painting. below the tree house, somewhere on the grass are the words ‘love me again’ written in fading ink.

“is this from mama’s last husband?” asks fizzy ogling at the painting. “mark troy?”

“yeah, that’s him,” he replies nodding, his eyes fixated on the three characters drawn in the painting.

“i hear getting a painting costs far too much money for normal folks,” fizzy says, her fingers brushing the frame of the painting, “so much even the rich can go bankrupt from one purchase. i wonder how harry pulled it off.”

 louis turns away from the painting to his sister. “harry?” she is holding a white card in her dainty fingers. he snatches the card from her and reads the message.  a smile dances on his lips as his eyes scan the white card. “of course he would.”

“i think it’s sweet,” muses fizzy. “where will you hang it? you know you should show it to mama when she gets home. she also loved art, didn’t she?”

“not mark’s.”

“whatever.”

fizzy walks down the stairs, leaving louis with his phone pressed to his ear. “hi asshead.”

_hello love!_

“so i see you went art shopping.”

_you could say i missed pablo picasso._

“funny,” he twirls on his feet and sits down on top of his cushion with a good view of the painting, “because if you did you wouldn’t have popped specifically into my father’s posh art gallery and bought one of his collections.”

_i’ve been an art fan, did you know?_

“no,” louis chuckles, “no, i didn’t. and apparently you have far too much money on your credit cards because you sure as hell should be broke by now. you shouldn’t even be able to call me.”

_did i also mention that niall is an art fan? no? my bad. he is as well and he loved the painting so much and bought it, for me._

louis laughs along with harry cheekiness. “i’ll be sure to thank niall… by burning it.”

_louis!_

“harry!” louis repeats in the same astonished voice as harry. “where the hell will i hang it?”

_he finished the tree house, love. he finished it._

“he left.” he throws his head back against the cushion, his eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling of the attic. “he was a coward. a jerk. and i don’t need him in my life. you said as long as life is good now, remember? that’s what you said.”

_i know how hurt you are, and how much pain he caused to you and your entire family over the years but this is him reaching out to you. maybe not your mother, most definitely not your stepfather, and lottie either… but this is him, making amends. you should’ve seen the gallery louis._

louis undoubtedly can hear the excitement in harry’s voice but sadly, he is not feeling it. “actually no. i don’t want to see it.”

_it was crowded. not in the stuffy crowded way but packed to the brim for monday late afternoon, it really was packed. and literally all of his paintings include you in it. i mean, it’s not obvious that it’s you but since you told me the story of mark, and miranda, and all, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together._

he is shooting bullets at the painting with his eyes, listening to harry talk on and on about the absent father he has grown to hate over the years. he sighs loudly, extra loud so that harry can hear. “he left harry. he lied to us, lied that he’d be coming back all the while he is banging some miranda girl as we wait for him to come home for christmas.”

_i know and i’m sorry. but coming from someone whose father doesn’t even recognize their own bloody son standing in front of him and prays every night that their son’s friend would instead be their son—_

“please keep it.”

louis twists his neck up to find harry standing by the door to his bedroom. his eyes pop out of his skull and roll onto the floor. how did harry get in? most importantly, how has he not been hearing harry talk when he was in the house this whole time?

“how did you get in?”

“keep the painting,” he says pleadingly. he is holding the one-metre long painting between his hands, and louis sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at it with disgust.

“why?”

harry sighs through his nose. he gently places the painting on top of his brown boots and gazes at louis. “in my world nobody cares for you… genuinely, or without strings attached. people lie, cheat, manipulate you without a care, i would know because i was always at the end of all of it. taylor lied to me, everyone, about being pregnant with my child because i dumped her this one time during freshman year, zayn told the whole school about me sleeping with julius and even had photos,  niall told my mother about me and julius who, for half a year, wouldn’t look at me, she told my father who only told me that if i got into harvard he would then forgive me, i sent my sister to jail thinking i’d help her but apparently i didn’t.”

he lets the painting lean against the wall then turns back to louis, breathing loudly through his mouth.

“soon it became a thing, prank harry, lie to harry, cheat on harry like 30 times and he’d still take you back because that’s just who he is,” he snorts angrily, “he loves and he loves and he loves more without a limit. he wonders if his father will ever love him as much as he loves his old best friend niall, if he’ll ever have a peace of mind like liam, if he’ll be as cool as a cucumber like zayn, if he’ll ever stop thinking about ending his life…”

“harry,” louis hums taking harry’s hands with his. harry shuts his eyes tight, breathing through his mouth. louis’ gaze drops to harry’s bottom lip stuck between his pearly white teeth. “harry.”

harry blinks several times at the ceiling and louis squeezes his hands. “in the midst of it all you came into my life.” he gazes down at louis, gazing up at him with sympathy. “i thought you wanted sex or money because that’s what people want from me but you didn’t. you liked me for me, you know who i am, everything, and you didn’t run when everyone else did and that’s why you should keep the painting. mark is sorry, terribly sorry for what he did when you were 14, i know he is. plus he’s alive, that’s saying a lot more than people who neither have a mother or father in their lives, you have both and one gladly never left, the other is trying even if it may seem late. if not for him, for me then.” he cups louis’ right cheek, gazing deeply at him. “please.”

“you’re the timeless one,” louis says, his hands cupping harry’s rosy cheeks. “you’re flawsome harry, don’t ever forget that.”

“flawsome?”

“tyra says it’s flaws plus awesome put together,” louis smirks, his eyes flickering between harry’s green orbs, “and i think it’s the bestest thing i got from watching _america’s next top model_.”

“really now?”

“blame fizzy with her fashion ideas and sowing machines jammed in her room,” sighs louis, “along with magazines.”

“she can borrow mine,” smirks harry. “i’ve got way too many i’ve been meaning to throw them out, now i get to give them to her.”

louis wraps his arms around his shoulders, his forehead resting on his broad, tanned shoulders. “i’ll keep it.” harry curls his arms around his waist tighter. “somebody’s sad freshman and sophomore stories convinced me otherwise.” harry mumbles something into his ear but he hears nothing, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and loving harry’s _smell_. “you smell really good.”

“you smell like lemons.” harry chuckles muffled by his hair. “i love it. it’s nicely familiar.” louis steps back from harry, with an amused expression on his face. “what?”

“how did you pay for the painting? it must have cost a fortune.”

“niall owes me,” he says and louis waits for him to continue. “remember when i said people manipulate you, well i’m not an exception, so that’s what i did to niall.”

“i don’t like him so i’ll let this pass,” winks louis flapping his hand in the air. he pulls harry away from the painting by the door and onto his comfortable bed that he knows harry secretly loves because it is not always changed every day by the a thousand housekeepers in the mansion. every. single. day.

“staying for dinner?” he asks harry, bumping shoulders. harry nods with a huge grin on his face, dimples on full display. “good. i’m done saying ‘this tastes great, mama’ or dad saying, ‘amazing honey’ all the time. i think you’ll convince her to cook something else other than pasta.”

“her chicken pasta is delicious.” harry quickly steals a kiss from louis lips that does not last more than two seconds. “and so do you, as always.”

“do you like kissing me?” louis smirks.

in all his seriousness, harry nods, stating, “i do,” his eyes flickering from louis’ eyes to his slightly red lips, then back to his ocean eyes. “i really do. it just happens that you taste like you, which is bliss, and an aftertaste of cigarettes and some soda…”

“that was once,” louis grunts throwing his head back against the wall. “i had just drank a coke and you happened to pop out of nowhere and peck me.”

harry hums on louis’ rosy cheeks, “and cupcakes too.”

“your housekeepers bake really good red velvet cupcakes.”

“don’t you find it weird that we randomly kiss?”

“friends kiss each other, like how nick and schmidt do in _new girl_.” louis seals a kiss from harry’s lips. “i’m of course nick.”

“what? i’m nick,” harry shakes his head, “i connect to him on a deeper level that—”

louis raises his hand at him. “nick is my spirit animal. plus i thought you didn’t like _new girl_?” he asks accusingly.

“i do now when it comes to my soulmate.”

louis scoffs, choking on laughter, “soulmate now? but schmidt is the one with the suit rage and all.”

“i prefer shirts not suits,” harry murmurs lowly to him, their lips barely brushing. “plus it’s dinner,” he suddenly is off louis’ lips, bouncing off the bed using his buttocks, “and i can’t wait to try your mom’s a thousand and one different ways to cook pasta.”

“a thousand and eight tonight,” louis corrects as the both of them walk down the stairs to the dinner table.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good art, really.


	48. 0.47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's mother pays louis a visit..

 

> **it will always be as if there is a language that sounds like english, and you _think_ you speak it but the rest don’t hear you and you don’t understand _them_.**
> 
>  

** **

louis slowly makes his way down to the dining room after his stepfather calls him down stating he has a visitor. he groans heavily on the inside when he sees who is it. he has never seen the woman in real life, nor ever heard her voice, only heard stories about her.

“louis.” harry’s mother smiles at louis as he makes his way into the dining room.

he nods slightly at her, feeling like a guest in his own dining room. “afternoon mrs styles.”

he walks around her and sits across the table from her . she is donned in a huge flamboyant fur coat covering her elegant shoulders, that matches her jet-black hair flowing behind her shoulders endlessly. she is sporting an expensive, classy indigo dress, matching her eye shadow  and louis hates to admit it, but her matte lipstick is to die for. if he could be a girl for a day, he knows the lipstick he definitely will be wearing.

he sniffs regretting immediately the stench of alcohol hitting his nose and no matter how much estee lauder harry’s mother has sprayed on herself before getting here, the alcohol is stronger. however, for someone who has drowned who knows how many _litres_ of the toxic drink, she sure looks sober.

“can i offer you anything?” he politely asks. his hands are stuck between his thighs below the table and the hairs on his neck are on alert.

“no,” she shakes her head slowly, removing the glove on her left hand, “i don’t want to stay here longer than i need to.” she pauses to briefly glance at the glass cabinet behind louis and rolls her eyes, just like harry does. “the smell of burnt tyre is as revolting as the lunch i had at the four seasons.”

“sorry.”

“please don’t interrupt me,” she says, her voice hard and aggressive while her eyes are almost droopy in nature. she sets her gloves to her left and looks up at louis. “i know you have a… liking for my son, dear harry… niall told me about you. and he’s harry’s best friend so i trust everything he’s told me.”

“niall and harry aren’t best friends anymore. it’s liam.”

she ignores the comment, exhaling loudly through her nose. “i don’t know what you’re trying with my son, tomlinson,” her eyes narrow at him, “but i was there last year when julius happened. it’s the day, and year, when everything fell apart in my son’s life. he was suddenly with this julius boy, who corrupted him, drove him to drain his bank account, buying him cars, expensive trips to dubai, new york, macau, st batch’s, you name it, but i was there when it ended.

“harry wasn’t himself. he was someone else, not my son at all, and i thought he’d lost his mind,” she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, “and that i’d have to register him at the london correctional facility where his older sister is currently living. he got so bad he was throwing his life away just because of this boy julius who meant nothing to him. it’s been taylor, it’s always been taylor.”

louis shifts uneasily in his seat, feeling as if the last sentence is just for him. “excuse me?”

“you’re excused, and you always will be.”

“did i miss something?”

“yes,” she says. she squares her shoulders placing her elbows on top of the table. louis’ eyes briefly glance down at her very prominent cleavage and he is mortified when he looks back up and sees mrs styles glowering at him. “the way you feel, it never goes away, tomlinson. it gets worse and i can see it from the three minutes i’ve been sitting here with you.”

louis can hear the pity in her voice, talking to him as if he is a three-year old peasant boy. “miss what?”

“you’ll always use your desert spoon for your entrée, you’ll always feel,” her gaze drops down to his spongebob shirt then up at his face, “underdressed no matter what you wear, how many suits and bowties you buy. at dinner parties, galas, horse shows… it will always be as if there is a language that sounds like english, and you _think_ you speak it, but harry, niall, and the rest don’t hear you and you don’t understand _them_ either.” she pauses, cocking her head side to side. she titlts her chin up, her long graceful neck a sight to see with her shiny, diamond necklace. “as time passes it feels like people don’t see you tomlinson, as i’m sure this has been happening in school, when they look at you, they find you odd, run-of-the-mill and a… charity case,” she spits the word with venom, “when you’re with my filthy rich, attractive son.”

louis cannot believe his ears! what a vile woman! sure she is harry’s mother but louis can cut a bitch right now. a tiny part of him understands what she is saying, much to his dismay. sure he is not rich like harry (he does not come close), liam, taylor, the lot, while he is in his own world with trisha, nick grimshaw, and not many others who are always on the sidelines in this rich world he got sucked into a long time ago.

she squares her shoulders again, her matte lips pressed together tightly. she is staring at louis intently, silence between them magnifying intently. louis has sunk into his seat already, and is sinking further under the strong glare from harry’s mother.

 “however, i thought i knew what was best for me when i met dr styles, my husband. i thought harry’s grandmother knew who i was better than me but she didn’t and,” her gaze lowers to the table, her head shaking slighty, “i let something important go that i should’ve fought for. my son has become better ever since you and him met. he comes home at a reasonable hour, he does not drain his father’s bank account like he did when he was dating julius or taylor, he does not host reckless parties as often as he did, he has not been arrested in the last four months and trust me that is a really long time if you’ve been with the times, he is less suicidal, he got accepted into four ivy leagues: harvard, princeton, brown, oxford and columbia without bribery or sexual favors; he did it all on his own merit.”

she is not smiling, which louis finds odd because getting into four ivy leagues, and oxford university, is a big deal. it is almost as if she is disappointed that harry got into these prestigious university by his own means, as if harry using his brains is not something that should have been done.

“i’m not agreeing to harry and taylor ending their relationship, but i’m starting to see who my son has been trying to show me for the odd years of his life on this earth: he wants to be himself, his own person and it’s hard to accept this. i’ve been coming to terms with this but it’s hard, it’s very hard, tomlinson.”

“what are you saying?”

“taylor is a beautiful fool, that’s all she is, vile and bitchy because she is me when i was her age,” she says, smiling to herself, “but you’re not julius, you’re _you_. regrettably,” she adds sizing him up with her green eyes. “you care for my son, truly. you don’t care that much for his money, name, or who he is as a person, what he can do for you, you don’t care. you see him as the person he wants to become when nobody in his life can. you should take my son to the july debutante ball, not taylor waldorf.”

two beats pass before the words sink in louis’ ears. harry’s mother, who has been bashing him for being, well, a tomlinson, wants him to take louis to the debutante ball. “what?” he gawks at her. “are you serious?”

“i may be a little tipsy,” she smirks catching louis glancing at her plunging cleavage, “only because i quite frankly can’t stand being in this neighbourhood, but i mean what i say that you should take my son. then after he can get back together with taylor, just as long as he climbs those stairs with you in his arms.”

“i…”

“i just wish you were different.”

he frowns, scratching behind his ear. “different how?”

“i wish you weren’t a _louis_ ,” she gives him a look, “maybe a _louisa_.”

louis gasps on the inside, all the air in his lungs evaporating within nanoseconds. his brows raise to his hairline, his orbs bulging out of his orbits. did he hear correctly? harry’s mother prefers him as a female companion for harry rather than male? does she not like louis as a proud, homosexual male?

“wha-what did you say mrs-mrs styles?” he mutters.

“i’ve caught you looking down my dress several times now,” she says and louis’ breath gets stuck in his throat. she smirks at his reaction, slightly chuckling. “so it makes me wonder if you’re really louis, or more of _louisa_.”

“i am louis!” he roars, forgetting his embarrassment of getting caught staring his best friend’s mother’s plunging chest.

she rolls her eyes. “i don’t like my little harry being gay—”

“that’s part of him being himself!”

“but that is what i’m also coming to terms with. i mean, i didn’t mind when he got together with vanessa, even though she was a peasant, but she was a girl, a good girl, and you… you’re _you_ and it’s… quite unfortunate.”

“with all due respect, i’m very proud to be gay mrs styles,” he says strongly. he watches her put on her gloves on her manicured fingers slowly, louis distracted by the action because it looks like something off a elizabeth taylor film. “and nothing will change that because the people that matter in my life don’t mind.”

“i could care less about your life tomlinson,” she says dryly, “i only care about my son.”

“you have a shitty way of showing it,” he spits. “he told me about yale. about the sixth year anniversary with taylor and how you didn’t support his decision when he dumped her and for the first time in ages, felt free.”

“take my son for the debutante ball.”

louis has no time to mention it as he watching her retreating back racing out of his house, down to the waiting limo in front of his house.

 

**=        =       =       =**

harry leans against the door frame to room no. 25 – his sister’s room at the london correctional facility. his eyes wander through the translucent glass, barred with steel grills, taking one swipe through the room. nothing stands out, apart from the bed, beside table and his older sister sleeping quietly on the bed, with her back to the door.

it feels like forever since he last came to visit her. last time he came to visit, about seven months ago, gemma screamed that he should never visit her. she hurled him out yelling that he should pretend that she is dead and is no longer part of his life.

he blames himself for not believing his sister, instead choosing his then bestfriend niall over his family. it really had been just a stupid misunderstanding that got his sister locked up in this horrid, horrid place. he should have listened to his sister when she told him the heroin was not hers, it was niall’s.

who was he to believe… gemma? gemma, who had been into heroin for months on end with no ending in the horizon? gemma who used almost all of her trust fund scouring the continent for good heroin? gemma who spent every waking moment with heroin on her lap, her then boyfriend, niall, encouraging the behaviour? gemma who harry had to lie to cover up her addiction to heroin?

who was he to believe gemma?

his hands hover above the brass doorknob, every voice in his head asking him to twist it and step inside. except his hand hovers above it, his fingers itching to touch the knob.

he remembers the day gemma got her ‘sentence’, as he calls it. it was a wednesday afternoon when the family lawyer knocked on the door; anne was home, dr styles was somewhere in asia, and he was with niall playing with his father’s jaguar in the grand, backyard. anne could not bear the news that her daughter gemma was going to jail for possession of heroin, lots of it. it was kilos and kilos of it in her possession. and assaulting an officer.

in all honesty, he wishes that was all gemma did but lawyers do not knock on the door for such small charges.

gemma cried out to her mother that it was _not_ her heroin. she happened to be caught when she was holding the drugs for someone. while gemma made a compeling case, everyone knew her addiction to the hard drug so it was hard to believe when she said the heroin packets were not hers.

he remembers niall standing there, watching her silently, listening carefully as the lawyer read the case against her – eight years in a correctional facility, and then rehab for three years – all the while he knew, he knew who the drugs were for. his.

niall listened quietly gemma’s death sentence, as he prefers to properly call it, being called by the lawyer, his sister sending pleading looks to niall to say something to stop the lawyer but niall’s always been selfish, ready to throw anyone under the bus to keep himself safe. it is deep wired into his blood, it is like a permanent trait of the horan family.

harry’s hand falls limp by his side, his regretful orbs gazing at his sleeping sister. he has been doing this for the last seven months: almost turning the door knob, almost opening the door, almost walking the three steps to his sister’s bed, almost running his palm down her fading blond hair, almost talking to his sister, most importantly almost asking his sister for forgiveness.

this, among other vital things in his life, are his biggest regrets. his sister does not want anything to do with him anymore, his father lies to people that she is doing charity work in haiti whenever anyone asks, ‘where is gemma? been long since we saw her!’ and his mother cannot be bothered to drive three hours to the london correctional facility (ironically, it is not located in the london). niall is the worst of them all: he pretends that gemma was never his dear girlfriend, he pretends that he did nothing to gemma, he pretends that whatever happened a year ago did not happen and most of all, he pretends that harry does not have a sister, gemma does not exist.

anything to remove the guilt, harry had concluded four months ago when he was standing by the door to her room, like he is now, leaning his head on the glass.

 

liam’s face turns pale, his hands limp after holding open the large orange, wooden door as soon as harry had rang the bell. harry’s face is as white as snow in the moonlight, his eyes red from crying and his bottom lip swollen and bright red from bitting down on it too hard.

“are you okay harry?” liam asks. he quickly envelopes him in a hug, harry’s cold cheek pressed to his. harry shakes his head against liam’s cheek, not saying anything. “c’mon in, i’ll make us some warm tea.”

harry sits on the stools by the marble kitchen island in the middle of the gigantic kitchen as liam sets about making tea. liam suspects the worst which is harry went to visit his sister at the correctional facility but why this time, he wonders. it is not like harry misses his sister per se but it is odd for harry to get a pancy fancy need to visit his sister. his father does not care to visit his daughter, nor his mother, not even niall, the ex-boyfriend, so why does harry still want to?

“i didn’t even know you could make tea,” harry chokes out, his hands around the warm cup of tea liam has made.

“blame louis’ mother for that,” liam smiles, “she forced me into making tea. says it makes me more of a man.”

“it makes you human,” harry corrects. he takes a sip of the warm tea, immediately loving the warm sensation it sends down his throat. “yum, vanilla.”

liam remains silent, sipping his own cup waiting for harry to speak first. however, impatience is one of his personality traits and he speaks up first. “why did you go? you know how it always makes you feel!”

harry’s eyes remain glued to his vanilla tea. “i.. i don’t know why.” he sniffs. “i thought maybe this time it’d be different.”

“did you enter?” harry shakes his head. “was she in?” harry nods. “what was she like?”

“she was sleeping,” harry murmurs lowly, “looking peaceful and all. soft even. like the whole rehab thing is working out for her.”

“of course it is.”

“and that i’m the reason she is in there.”

“it’s all niall’s fault. he fooled all of you: you, gemma, your mother, the lawyers, all of you. you can’t blame yourself. it’s a horan thing to throw everyone else in the limelight.”

“i should’ve believed my sister,” harry says forcefully, looking up from his cup for the first time. his fingers hold his cup tightly above the kitchen island. “i should’ve not listened to niall. i should’ve known what type of liar niall is and believed my sister when she said they weren’t her drugs.”

“you can’t keep replaying the past, all it’ll do is make you angry, bitter and resentful,” liam says to him, “you’ve got to let it go and wait for her release… which shouldn’t be long right?”

“almost seven, eight years now,” mumbles harry, “i lost count.”

“i know what will cheer you up,” liam lights up standing from his stool, “c’mon.”

“where?” asks harry standing up from his stool. he follows liam, his vanilla tea in his left hand, who is practically running down the long corridor with family photos on both walls. liam shows him to his large game room (liam has got the best one out of all the super rich kids) and tells him to wait for him as he fetches something. harry slides down on one of the fluffy bean bags in liam’s game room, waiting for liam to return.

he pockets out his phone and texts louis.

 **HARRY:** Liam made me tea.

 **LOUIS:** Which one?

 **HARRY:** Vanilla.

 **LOUIS:** That’s the only one he can make LOL

 **HARRY:** Oh? And you?

 **LOUIS:** I can make any tea under the sun!!

 **HARRY:** Even lemon tea?

 **LOUIS:** Gross.

 **LOUIS:** But yes I can.

 **HARRY:** You’ll have to make some for me sometime.

 **LOUIS:** I’m not making that gross tea!!

 **HARRY:** It’s tasty!!

 **LOUIS:** IS NOT

 **HARRY:** IS TOO

 **LOUIS:** IS NOT

 **HARRY:** IS TOO

 **LOUIS:** IS NOT

 **HARRY:** IS TOO

 **LOUIS:** IS NOT

 **HARRY:** IS TOO

 **LOUIS:** i’ve got millions of sisters I can do this all day.

 **HARRY:** i’ve got annoying friends, I can do this all night.

 **LOUIS:** How about ginger? Blueberry? Cinnamon?

 **HARRY:** Allergic to cinnamon. Any more options?

 **LOUIS:** Ginger?

 **HARRY:** No.

 **LOUIS:** Strawberry? Apple?

 **LOUIS:** But if I make apple tea that would mean you’d be drinking tea tha tastes like your shampoo!

 **HARRY:** Yum.

 **LOUIS:** You’re ridiculous!!!!

 **HARRY:** Blueberry is the only option I see, though strawberry looks inviting.

 **LOUIS:** UGH! You’re a hard lad to please.

 **HARRY:** You make weird options of tea.

 **LOUIS:** LEMON TEA IS OUT. And green tea. And chamiosomething tea.

 **HARRY:** Chamomile tea.

 **LOUIS:** That one. How about coffee?

 **HARRY:** I make good coffee.

 **LOUIS:** Really?

 **HARRY:** Of course *rolls eyes* I do go into the kitchen at times.

 **LOUIS:** Of course you do but you never reach the cabinets, plates, spices, forks, sink….

 **HARRY:** We have this new coffee maker that Kendall told me about. It makes foam and all that so I bought one.

 **LOUIS:** YOU WENT TO THE STORE? BY YOURSELF?

 **HARRY:** Shuuuuuut uuuuuuuuuuuuuup

 **LOUIS:** AHAHAHAHAH DID YOU FILM IT?

 **HARRY:** I put it on Snapchat. I sent you one of when I was choosing the coffee maker.

 **HARRY:** You’d have seen it,  if you ever go on Snapchat that is.

 **LOUIS:** Snapchat is boring! Plus it’s a bit creepy that I have +1000 views each time and I don’t know from WHOM!!!

 **LOUIS:** All thanks to you that is!!

 **HARRY:** Welcome ;)

 **LOUIS:** What are you doing?

 **LOUIS:** EMOJIIIIIIIIIII XD

 **HARRY:** I’m at Liam’s place about to play a video game.

 **LOUIS:** Video games have names…

 **HARRY:** He hasn’t told me. He just ran off.

 **LOUIS:** Are you in his game room? It’s sick, right? Have you turned off the lights?

 **HARRY:** No. Why?

 **LOUIS:** Everything glows in the room. The couch, the game consoles, the walls have this weird glow-in-the-dark stickers of Marvel characters (mostly Batman), the outline of the grand TV

 **LOUIS:** EVERYTHING GLOWS IN THE DARK!!

 **HARRY:** No surprise for Batman.

 **LOUIS:** TURN OFF THE LIGHTS.

 **HARRY:** Fine fine. Jeez!

 **HARRY:** HOLY CRAP! IT LOOKS AMAZING!!

 **HARRY:** How have I never seen this room before??????

 **HARRY:** *attached image file 201MB*

 **LOUIS:** How have you NEVER!?

 **HARRY:** Idk. I rarely come to Liam’s place.

 **HARRY:** Turns out we’re playing a The Walking Dead game.

 **LOUIS:** Sweet

 **HARRY:** Right? My favourite. The only one I can actually play properly.

 **LOUIS:** LOSER!

 **HARRY:** You can’t make tea.

 **LOUIS:** Can too

 **HARRY:** Can not

 **LOUIS:** Can too

 **HARRY:** Can not

 **LOUIS:** Can too

 **HARRY:** Not doing this again. Will text you later after I’m done here.

 **LOUIS:** Ait sunshine J

 **HARRY:** I whale you, Tomlinson .

 **LOUIS:** I whale you Styles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONGRATS TO ZAYN FOR ARTIST OF THE YEAR!!! #ZQUAD!! AND OFC ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIALLL HANDSHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE


	49. 0.48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and liam talk about dates for the debutante ball..

** **

 

> **in our world louis, we judge each other, we tear each other around like wolves, we don’t care who we hurt as long as we get what we want.**

 

**_(LOUIS TOMLINSON and LIAM PAYNE are in the football field after school for football practice. They are currently on a  15-minute break.)_ **

 

 **LIAM:** _(panting)_ Shit! If I knew football was this intense I’d have chosen cricket. Actually, I am going to play cricket from now on. _(gasping)_ It’s much simpler.

 **LOUIS:** It’s boring.

 **LIAM:** Say that to Gupta and he’ll kill you.

 **LOUIS:** _(turns to face LIAM, worried)_ Do you really think that Anne was lying about saying I should be the one to take Harry for the Debutante Ball?

 **LIAM:** _(nodding)_ Most definitely. Nobody says the truth around here. Only lies we tell each other to get what we want. Somehow, Anne does not want her son to take Taylor for the Ball for some selfish reason she has… Or because Tay grew fat.

 **LOUIS:** Superficial.

 **LIAM:** _(winks)_ Aren’t we all?

 **LOUIS:** Is this about money? _(to himself)_ It always is anyway.

 **LIAM:** You don’t have much. So it isn’t money. Money isn’t the prize that everyone wants in our world, it’s just the X.

 **LOUIS:** What do you mean ‘the X’?

 **LIAM:** You know like in a treasure map, X marks the spot? _(LOUIS nods)_ Well it’s like that with us. Money is the X mark, and the treasure is what we really want.

 **LOUIS:** What do you think Anne wants from me?

 **LIAM:** I don’t think this is all about you. It seems it’s more about the Waldorf family.

 **LOUIS:** _(curious)_ Did they do something?

 **LIAM:** They’re always doing something. _(stretches his legs out in front of him)_ Fook, why is it so hot this summer?

 **LOUIS:** _(dry)_ It’s July. So what she said about not knowing Harry, him changing, about my sexuality…

 **LIAM:** I wouldn’t say they are all lies. Anne really doesn’t know her son. All she does is party with her single friends every other day.

 **LOUIS:** That’s sad.

 **LIAM:** _(teasing)_ My parents spend half their time across the globe, you never say sad.

 **LOUIS:** Cause you’re Liam Payne _(winking)_ Power of Payne !

 **LIAM:** So are you taking him for the Ball?

 **LOUIS:** _(blushing)_ He has so many offers, why should I take him?

 **LIAM:** Rumor’s going round that he wants you to take him to the Ball.

 **LOUIS:** What about Taylor? Kendall? Brittany? Cathy?... The red-headed girl in Chemistry ? Or that girl with the broken glasses?

 **LIAM:** _(frowning)_ Haylor is over, why would he want to go with his ex ?

 **LOUIS:** Maybe he’s had a sudden liking to her again.

 **LIAM:** Yuck ! Spit it out ! Don’t curse us again with the return of Haylor.

 **LOUIS:** _(casually)_ Who are you taking ?

 **LIAM:** Not changing the subject _(LOUIS remains silent)_ What’s stopping you from asking him to the Ball?

 **LOUIS:** I feel like he has better people to go with _(racks his brain for someone)_ Like Cathy. They’ve been close these few weeks.

 **LIAM:** It’s just sex _(takes a gulp from his water bottle)_ plus she’s going with Adrian to the Ball. What are you so afraid of?

 **LOUIS:** _(blurts out)_ He’ll say no.

 **LIAM:** _(watches LOUIS hide his face in his hands)_ Oh.

 **LOUIS:** _(pokes head out of his hands and stares at LIAM)_ Oh ? Oh is all you have to say?

 **LIAM:** Here I thought it is because you already had a date. Like Trisha or someone.

 **LOUIS:** Trisha is going with Niall.

 **LIAM:** Niall has a date ? _(shakes head, goes back to previous topic)_ Anyway, why do you think he’ll say no?

 **LOUIS:** Because I’m me and he’s the Harry Styles.

 **LIAM:** You’re Louis Tomlinson. Confident. Powerful. Mischevous. Witty. Unapologetic. Still can’t cook chicken without burning it _(LOUIS punches his shoulder plafully_ ) but that’s what makes you the Tomlinson.

 **LOUIS:** What if he doesn’t like me that way? _(plays with the end of his football jersey)_ As in, the sort of way to take him to the Debutante Ball? You super rich kids have been making such a big deal about this Ball that I don’t want him to regret going with me. I’d rather he go with someone who is just as important in the society, like the Jenner’s or Archibald’s, or _(smirks)_ Payne’s.

 **LIAM:** _(chuckling)_ Debutante Ball is a rite of passage, like Baptism. Or Bar Mitzvah. Or… what do other religions do?

 **LOUIS:** I don’t know.

 **LIAM:** Y’know everyone can see it but they ignore it because they’re jealous of you.

 **LOUIS:** What do you mean?

 **LIAM:** _(smiling)_ That Harry completely loves you. Everyone in school can see that Harry is infatuated by you, most people don’t get it, don’t want to see it, because they’ve been trying to get Harry to look at them the way he looks at you. And don’t you dare say it ain’t so because it’s true.

 **LOUIS:** _(flustered)_ It isn’t.

 **LIAM:** You think you’ve got everybody fooled, Lou? But not me. Definitely not me because I can see it, you love him, don’t you? _(LOUIS is blushing furiously, avoiding eye contact)_ Admit it, you love him just as much as he loves you. And I know that you do, there’s no denying it.

 **LOUIS:** _(flushed)_ Doesn’t matter what I feel.

 **LIAM:** You’re head over heels over Harry it’s a surprise he doesn’t see it either. _(takes a sip of his water_ ) Well, it was bound to happen.

 **LOUIS:** What do you mean?

 **LIAM:** You two have been spending so much time together this whole year. You’ve broken down his walls. Saw him for who he really is; past his name, past his money, past his body, past the rumors about him, past his mistakes, his quirks like shopping for odd clothes like women’s jeans _(they both chuckle)_ and so many more that I don’t know about him but you do because you loved… love him for who he is. You’re his bestfriend and you make him live.

 **LOUIS:** You were there for him.

 **LIAM:** It’s not the same with me. _(sits up straight on the grass, looks at LOUIS in the eye)_ In our world Louis, we judge each other, we tear each other around like wolves, we don’t care who we hurt as long as we get what we want. We’re selfish assholes, Niall being the best of all of us. Except with Harry, he takes everything to heart and so he doesn’t take it well, being with us all. There are times Harry does become mean and it scares us but that’s when you’ve really made him mad, upset, but the rest of the time he cries alone in his room, tries to jump off the rooftop. You showed him kindness, love, care that none of us gave him.

 **LOUIS:** _(shrugs)_ He just needed someone to show him compassion, that’s all.

 **LIAM:** And we didn’t figure it out _(sarcastically)_ imagine that. Haven’t you ever wondered…

 **LOUIS:** Wondered what?

 **LIAM:** How Harry always comes back to you? I mean, you know how bitchy us rich people can be? We use people and once we’re done, we leave you like last season’s jacket. Harry didn’t. He goes out of his way to be your friend. And no matter what you two have been through all these years, to be honest I didn’t think you two would still be friends what with Taylor, his mother, Niall, girls at school, the whole sleepover fiasco… rumors had it that your friendship was on the rocks but I didn’t think so. I mean, you talked to him during the ban.

 **LOUIS:** _(accusingly)_ Such a great friend you were.

 **LIAM:** I knew you were with him so it didn’t matter that I wasn’t.

 **LOUIS:** He was really upset about it… Oi! What do you mean ‘rocks’?

 **LIAM:** _(raises his index finger up)_ Well for one, you two haven’t slept together.

 **LOUIS:** _(cocks an eyebrow)_ Seriously?

 **LIAM:** Hey! Anyone who befriends Harry is either after sex or his money, so when you didn’t take either from him, we all thought your friendship was over.

 **LOUIS:** I don’t like Harry because I want his money. Or sex.

 **LIAM:** I know that, the school doesn’t. Plus Harry is sort of known for having sex with almost anyone.

 **LOUIS:** Cathy for one.

 **LIAM:** Like a man slut, if you will.

 **LOUIS:** He’s misunderstood _(LIAM gives him a look)_ What you staring at? He is misunderstood.  _(defensively)_ And not a man slut.

 **LIAM:** So sleeping around with girls, each week three different girls isn’t a man slut? And sometimes boys too.

 **LOUIS _:_** _(spits)_ Niall sleeps around with more girls than Harry and nobody is giving him shit about it. Plus it’s his business who he sleeps with, and doesn’t.

 **LIAM:** _(sighs, laying on his back on the grass)_ Sometimes I forget how recent you are to all this drama. Hard to believe we were all in the same school since Freshmen year yet now, in Junior year, is when we’re all together.

 **LOUIS:** I hated rich people. Bunch of spoilt fooking assholes trashing everything in their way.

 **LIAM:** But not me.

 **LOUIS:** You too.

 **LIAM:** Hey ! I became better. Doesn’t it bother you that the lad you love has sex with other people and not you? Even you jacked him off those two times?

 **LOUIS:** Not bothered at all.

 **LIAM:** Don’t you want him to be moaning your name and not Cathy? Or Rachel? Or what’sherface with the weird finger?

 **LOUIS:** Nope. I’m fine. He can sleep with whoever he wants. _(LIAM gives him the_ I don’t believe you _look)_ We’re just friends anyway. Why do you care? Do you want to sleep with him?

 **LIAM:** Nah _(rests his head on top of his hands)_ I’d never sleep with Harry.

 **LOUIS:** Why?

 **LIAM:** We did once and it was really awkward after. Felt like having sex with my nephew, or whatever.

 **LOUIS:** _(after a moment)_ Has everyone slept with everyone in this school?

 **LIAM:** _(looking up at the blue sky)_ Almost, yeah. Just to blow off steam.

 **LOUIS:** How did you end up having sex with Harry ?

 **LIAM:** Believe it or not, I was not drunk _(LOUIS gawks down at him)_ which I think made the whole thing more awkward later.

 **LOUIS:** Has Niall ?

 **LIAM:** Nope.

 **LOUIS:** Why?

 **LIAM:** Niall used to date Harry’s sister so (shrugs his left shoulder) it’d be weird.

 **LOUIS:** Hmm. What’s her name?

 **LIAM:** Gemma.

 **LOUIS:** Lovely name.

 **LIAM:** But the mother…

 **LOUIS:** Mother? Harry’s mother? What about her?

 **LIAM:** She is the ultimate MILF.

 **LOUIS:** Eurgh! That’s gross.

 **LIAM:** ( _sits up on his elbows, smirking at LOUIS)_ When she came to your house, don’t tell me you weren’t staring at her boobs? Her large, perky boobs?

 **LOUIS:** That’s Harry’s mother you’re talking about.

 **LIAM:** She’s the hottest mother we all know and trust me, she knows it, everybody knows it, why deny it? Niall didn’t.

 **LOUIS:** Niall?

 **LIAM:** There’s a rumor that went round in the beginning of this year that Niall slept with Harry’s mother _(LOUIS’ jaw hangs)_ But I don’t know if it was just a rumor or it happened.

 **LOUIS:** What did he say?

 **LIAM:** Harry didn’t want to talk about it. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it? _(LOUIS shakes his head, LIAM sees the blush on his cheeks)_ You were totally ogling her cleavage weren’t you?

 **LOUIS:** All this sounds like the song ‘Stacy’s Mom’.

 **LIAM:** _(laughing)_ It’s literally that ! We always invite her to parties that our parents throw, cocktails, especially swimsuit parties _(LIAM shakes his head with a huge grin)_ This one time Zayn threw a swimsuit party and Zayn convinced Anne to stay.

 **LOUIS:** With a bunch of teens ?

 **LIAM:** Our mothers were all there but, who cares. So, Zayn sweet talked to her and she was gorgeous! Walking around in her fuschia bikini, her legs for days, her perfectly tanned skin that most girls do not know how to get, and her laugh… her laugh is the best. She has the best eyes, oh definitely.

 **LOUIS:** Where was Harry in all of this ?

 **LIAM:** To be honest, I don’t know. I was busy trying not to cum right there and then. I’m not going to lie but if she ever gets a divorce with Dr Styles, I’m taking her on a date.

 **LOUIS:** She’s like… how old is she even?

 **LIAM:** She’s in her mid-thirties only. She looks pretty young for her age, thanks to Botox and all that shit. She knows the best doctors though, unlike Niall’s mother who went for Botox and looks as if she is a hundred.

 **LOUIS:** She is married! And old.

 **LIAM:** I can see you blushing! You had the hots for her when she was at your house.

 **LOUIS:** I like Harry.

 **LIAM:** Keep denying all you want, Harry’s mom is a MILF and will always be it.

 **LOUIS:** Don’t forget scary!

 **LIAM:** Makes her hotter.

 **LOUIS:** _(opening water bottle)_ You’re still… sick.

 **LIAM:** _(serious)_ Please, just think about it. Otherwise Harry’ll take some random person he doesn’t like just to keep appearances.

 **LOUIS:** For whom?

 **LIAM:** For one, his grandmother is coming.

 **LOUIS:** Oh?

 **LIAM:** His grandmother is the Chair for the Debutante Ball this year so it’s a big deal for the Styles’ family. She’s been making sure he is keeping fit for the Ball, finding the right tux, the right shoes to go with it, going for body massages, facials to reduce his acne _(loud sigh)_ She’s going to want her little grandson to outshine the rest of us _(rolls her eyes)_ but not the Payne son.

 **LOUIS:** Is everything a competition with you?

 **LIAM:** Yes.

 **LOUIS:** So he will take anyone to make his grandmother happy?

 **LIAM:** Now you see the problem, you have to take him to the Ball. As much as it is all of our dreams to go for the Ball, it’d be more pleasant if you go with someone you actually want to go with… and if they are rich. Another reason why you should take Harry because there are many people eyeing him just for the sole reason he is filthy rich and a Styles’.

 **LOUIS:** Didn’t you say you’re the richest?

 **LIAM:** _(proudly)_ I don’t count because I’m old money, not new money like everyone else.

 **LOUIS:** Honestly I never get what you mean by that but hopefully one day I will.

 **LIAM:** Please try. Both of you feel it, you both like each other, want to ask each other out, but you’re both fooking chicken to do anything about it. Plus it’s literally three days to the Ball, you’d better hurry.

 **LOUIS:** _(mock shock)_ Three days and he doesn’t have a date to the Ball ? Surprise!

 **LIAM:** Because he’s waiting for you. Putting everyone else on hold. You know yesterday at lunch how many times he was asked to be taken?

 **LOUIS:** Many I’m sure. I got some too.

 **LIAM:** What, two? Nick doesn’t count by the way so that makes one person.

 **LOUIS:** If Nick is in the list, then three people.

 **LIAM:** You’d take Nick? _(LOUIS nods)_ Why him? You’d say no to me if I asked to take you to the Ball.

 **LOUIS:** _(cheekily)_ Obviously.

 **LIAM:** _(groans)_ Can’t believe I’m losing to Nick… Nick Grimshaw _(repeats)_ Nick Grimshaw. Nick of all the people. I’d accept Zedd as your choice for the Ball, but not Nick. Never Nick.

 **LOUIS:** _(amused)_ Why do you hate him so much?

 **LIAM:** _(denial)_ I don’t.

 **LOUIS:** Petty Payne. I keep telling you that your middle name is not James, but Petty.

 **LIAM:** _(serious again)_ Louis, please.

 **LOUIS:** What is it to you if I take Harry to the Ball ?

 **LIAM:** _(honest)_ Because it kills me to see him upset. For all the Homecoming balls, proms, stupid school dances and whatever, he’s been with Taylor as far as anyone can remember and he’s usually been miserable. Always. Maybe this once, I want to see him smile and enjoy himself.

 **LOUIS:** I do too _(LIAM glees)_ Fine, fine. I’ll see what I can do.

 

**_(The football Coach that their 15-minute break is over, and they are to practice for one more hour.)_ **

 

 **LIAM:** He’s going to be so happy, I know it.

 **LOUIS:** _(standing up)_ Yeah, yeah whatever.

 **LIAM:** And you love him don’t you ? _(smirking at LOUIS)_ y’know I was guessing back there.

 **LOUIS:** _(shoves him forward)_ Payno!

 **LIAM:** _(laughing)_ Don’t worry I won’t tell, though who am I telling since everyone knows you two like each other.

 **LOUIS:** You should quit football. Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaams suck!!!! but on the plus side, LOUIS HAS A SMOL LAUGH!!!!


	50. 0.49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's the 5th day of rehearsals for the debutante ball this july..

** **

 

> **he always wanted to be alone but he doesn’t anymore**

mrs river, the madam in charge of coordinating the july debutante ball as well as the rehearsals for the dances for the ball, asks everyone in the room (with mirrors for walls) to start the dance again, and switch partners.

louis takes this cue to sit down, his legs already tired from moving around to what he thinks is mozart, or jazz, but it is somebody else with a russian name he does not hear properly. it has already been three and a half hours, and everyone loves the rehearsals, dancing their bodies out, talking outfits and partners… for which he still does not have one. nor an outfit.

thanks to liam’s encouragement, louis had tried to ask harry to escort him to the ball but the question would die on his tongue each time and immediately switch the subject. he had tried again, and again, but every time he cannot summon the words to ask him. it does not help matters that harry had been getting offers for dates and, while some he could see harry wanted to say yes to (i mean, the girls in their school are very attractive, no lying there)(and the boys double-y gorgeous) but he would randomly say no. liam one time had whispered that it is because harry wants him to ask harry for the ball.

he takes a sip of water from his water bottle, his internal body immediately cooling down. anne’s words echo through his mind that he will never fit in. he will never be part of this world; this expensive, fabulous life filled with spawns of snobs and assholes that could care less about anyone. her ending phrase rings as loud as a siren – of being an odd, run-of-the-mill, basic boy when he is around harry, the star, the diamond that everyone wants to be with… but never him.

“y’know,” liam says, breaking through his terrible thoughts, “if you want a good moment to ask harry for the ball this is the moment.”

“with all those girls giggling around him?” asks louis his eyes focused on the crowd of girls flocking harry. “you’ve got to be kidding!”

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

“i’m poor,” louis says, “i told you what anne told me.”

“don’t listen to her,” liam says shaking his head, “she said horrible things to your face to make you feel terrible and to manipulate you, that is all there is to it.”

“but she was right; the feeling never goes away, the feeling that i am missing something.”

“i don’t know how many times i have to tell you for you to get it through your fooking head,” louis turns to him, his eyebrows forming a v, “but harry wants you, you alone. do you know what that means, in this fucking school of ours?”

“you’re about to tell me?” louis sarcastically asks.

“it means you’re brilliant,” liam says as louis is casually glancing around the room with murmurs of girls chatting. he can clearly see that half of them are eyeing harry, then blushing furiously amongst themselves. “it’s not every day when harry sends you a text in the morning telling you “morning beautiful”, not every day when harry sits next to you in english class, or biology. not every day when harry gives you hugs because trust me, he is not a hugger.” louis gives him a sceptical sideway glance. “it’s true, lou. for a long time nobody thought harry would sit with someone else apart from taylor in the cafeteria but he does now, and it’s with you and it’s fooking driving everyone crazy, including taylor herself. after school, it’s been a mystery what harry does but now he spends nearly every school night with you doing who-knows-what but he does and before? he fucking never did. he always wanted to be alone but he doesn’t anymore.”

liam takes a deep breath before continuing, “people are jealous of you and that says a lot in the world we live in but you wouldn’t understand because you’re…,” he pauses, racking his brain for a word not to offend his bestfriend, “well, you’ve been very un-tomlinson this past week.”

“i know, but maybe you’re right, maybe harry does.” louis chuckles softly gazing at liam. “maybe you’re right… or wrong, who cares, right?”

 

harry, who is sitting across the room from liam and louis is with several girls around him, mumbling something about… something. he takes a sip of his water while gazing at louis sitting across the room with liam talking animatedly to him. the blond girl to his left, lizzy, nudges him, his thoughts stopping to a halt and turning to her.

“what was that?” he drawls.

“you weren’t listening!” lizzy huffs. harry’s eyes drop to her lips, wondering how, and why,  her lips her too glossy. “i said that we should speak about our outfits for the debutante ball. i’ve put three dresses on hold at buberry, your favourite desginer.”

“we aren’t going together, jane.”

“lizzy,” lizzy’s friend corrects harry.

he rolls his eyes. “whatever.”

“what do you mean whatever, she is lizzy, you should be more respectful,” she scoffs, outraged.

“down lizzy,” lizzy’s other friend hushes the girl down. “you’re not making it any easier.”

“both of you, shut up!” lizzy seethes, “you’re embarrassing me.”

“we’re just trying to help,” the friend protests, “plus,” she whispers, “harry has become an asshole, hasn’t he?”

“no, he hasn’t,” lizzy disagrees haughtily.

“i don’t know why you want to go to the ball with him when liam, even zayn, is a better choice,” lizzy’s other friend urges. “they’re a better fit.”

“zayn’s poor now, how can you even suggest that?,” lizzy asks, horrified. “no way i’m making my appearance to society with a broke jerk.”

“liam isn’t,” the friend suggest, “or niall.”

“niall’s going with that whore trisha,” lizzy rolls her eyes, “and liam isn’t my type. my type is,”  she squeezes harry’s knee, “harry.”

“i’m not your type,” harry disagrees, bored out of his mind with this senseless conversation between lizzy and her extra loud minions.

“you’re not going with taylor, nor with cathy or olivia, nor that ghastly girl with the horrible extensions, which leaves me.”

“i don’t know,” harry says dryly, “olivia seems pretty awesome.”

“i’m richer than her,” lizzy protests, and leaning in to harry in a whisper, she adds, “plus i’m so much better between the sheets.”

mrs rivers calls out to all of the juniors that their break is over and they should rehearse once more before calling it a day. lizzy stands, holding her hand out for harry to hold to make their way to the dancefloor. however, lizzy’s friend instead grabs harry’s hand stating that it is her turn to have harry and not her because really, she is acting desperate now.

“i am not desperate twat,” lizzy lashes out. “go away slut!”

“i am a whore, what’s new?” the friend lashes back at her.

harry rolls his eyes, pulling lizzy’s other friend to the dance floor, wanting to just disappear from all this drama. his hopes rise once again when louis clears his throat and asks for his hand to dance.

“no, we’re busy,” lizzy’s friend tells louis off, “go away plebian.”

“i’m free,” harry smiles, taking louis’ hand instead. lizzy’s friend huffs, stomps her foot, and walks away muttering that there are no good men left. “took you long enough. i was thinking i’d go without having the honor of dancing with the tomlinson.”

“i hate this whole thing,” louis murmurs as they take their steps for their dance rehearsal, “the dance, the songs, the stupid clothes that make me feel like i’m wearing a corset. we aren’t in the 1800’s, y’ know. this is the 22nd century.”

“21st,” harry corrects. his hand is around louis waist, gazing down at him, the sounds of vincenzo bellini filling the spacious room.

“what i said.”

“other than that, you seem a bit down, what’s wrong?”

louis presses his cheek to harry’s chest, shaking his head slightly. “doesn’t matter anymore. i’m fine now.” louis lifts his head off harry’s chest and gazes up at him. “do you want to go for curly fries after? they always make you feel better.”

“i’d love to,” harry hums happily.

an awkward silence falls between them, just like it has before when louis’ mind was repeating _will you go to the ball with me?_ question constantly that it is a song right now, off his latest album ‘nervous.’

“i have something to ask you,” louis says, his heart rate doubling when he has not even asked the question. he takes a step back, people around them dancing save for the two of them. “i… want to ask you,” he exhales shakily, “something.”

harry nods, biting down on his lip. “okay.”

louis intakes a sharp breath, nodding to himself. he breathes out, his heart rate still high and his palms now sweaty. great, he sighs. “i was wo—wonder—wondering if—if you… if you liked—like to,” he pauses to catch his breath, “go to colombia for summers?” he speeds through the question.

“uh.” harry stalls, slightly taken aback. he blinks several times, shifting on his brown boots. “i’ve, um, never been there.”

louis is not one to start something and stop so he continues his random tale about colombia. “you should because since you got accepted to columbia university it would do you good to learn more about the country colombia,” louis rumbles because now his nervousness has hit 100%. “did you know pablo escobar was colombian?”

“uh.” harry is confused. if he did not know better, he is sure louis was about to ask him to be his escort for the ball. he scratches the back on his neck, going with the flow. “colombia and columbia are different things, angel.”

“pablo actually wanted to be the president of his country at one point because he was sort of the robin hood, but the latino version.”

harry tilts his head to one side, his eyes falling on mrs rivers telling kendall to grasp onto liam’s back tighter, then shift back to louis who is nervously smiling up at him. he is generally confused about what louis is rumbling about at this point so he only utters a, “right.”

“you know that spain and south america all speak the same language but are all different.” he adds quickly, “apart from brazil which doesn’t speak spanish.” he chokes a laughter. “clearly.”

the song changes to something of giuseppe verdi, one of harry’s favourites. he exhales as he combs his fingers through his hair. “louis.”

“people from spain are spaniards and people from south america are latinos. crazy right?”

“louis.”

“but mexicans are actually just that, mexicans,” he says flipping his arms around him and talking at super speed, “not latinos nor spaniards.”

“louis!”

“people mistake all three groups just because they speak spanish?” he scoffs. “uh, excuse me! they are _different_ people!”

“louis.”

“if i spoke spanish do you think i’d be a mexican, spaniard or latino?”

“ _lewis_.”

“i hate that name and you know it,” louis grits between his teeth.

“you’re rambling!” harry informs him. he takes his hands to his, thumbing his knuckles. “you wanted to ask me something?”

“i did?”

“yes.”

“oh right, yeah i did. um…” louis breathes in slowly, gazing at harry’s eager eyes except they seem to be boring down into him. “do yo—you… maybe,” he takes a sharp breath, “gowithmetotheball?” he breathes out, “asmyescort?”

“i’m sorry, what was that?” harry smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“will—will you take… comeforthedebutanteballwithme?” he rushes through the question. he gains his composure back and asks, slower this time, “will you be my escort for the ball?”

“i would love to but…”

louis’ face falls, and so do their hands. “you’re going with someone else?”

“sort of.”

“sort of?”

“i…” harry scratches the back of his neck, rushing through his sentence. “i’mgoingwithsomeoneelse.”

“oh. that’s okay. who?”

“no one important.”

“how can you say that about me?”

harry shuts his eyes and throws his head back groaning as louis’ mouth gapes at taylor standing before them. she flips her long, blond ponytail from her shoulder and giggles. louis turns to harry not believing him, the sight of taylor, nor what is forming in his mind: haylor is back together?!

“please tell me she is joking,” louis cries to harry. harry croaks, unable to form words. giuseppe verdi hums louder in the room, the girls twirling round and round in their gentlemen’s hand. his shoulders slump, looking at louis helplessly. “please tell me she is lying.”

“i’m not sweetie,” taylor flaunts in front of louis, holding his shoulder for extra effects with her long dainty fingers. “we’re together now, didn’t you hear?”

“we’re not dating,” harry says through his teeth, “we’re just going together for the ball, nothing else.”

louis cannot believe this! this is really happening. the _woman_ that harry has been ranting, moaning about for who knows how long is the one the is taking as his escort for the debutante ball. taylor, who harry hates with a passion mind, is the lucky one to be harry’s escort. and harry did not bother to tell him?

he blinks up at the ceiling, breathing out shallow breathes. harry is staring at louis intently, waiting for him to cry out, throw a fit, hit him, anything but he is trying his hardest not to _cry_. harry can see that clearly.

“that’s not what you said three days ago,” taylor coos. by now, the room has stopped dancing, giuseppe verdi  has been turned off, even mrs rivers is watching the scene before them.

“three days?” louis questions in disbelief. “three fooking days and you didn’t think to tell me? what, you lost my number? it slipped your mind?”

“he doesn’t owe you anything,” taylor spits.

“you’re right,” louis shoves harry’s chest, “you rich people are all the same: manipulating assholes. i just thought you were different.”

“louis—”

“all those things about taylor? about being your own person?” he yells at harry, his voice rising each time. “are they all lies? were you saying those things to fill the air?”

 “what things about me?” wonders taylor.

“that’s not true!” he attempts to walk to louis, to hold his hand, but louis shakes his head, and turns around heading straight for the door.

“what a loser!” taylor snickers, some girls giggling with her.

“louis!” harry calls out. the room, along with harry, watch louis stomp off. “louis please,” he calls out again.

“you’re an asshole,” liam fumes, shoving past harry and after louis.

“leave him,” taylor says to him, “he’s not worth your time.”

“ _you’re_ not worth my time,” harry growls taylor. “he’s worth every single second minute and moment of my life.” he shoves his shoulder with hers, walking off. mrs rivers calls out after him, stating they have (another) one more dance to do before calling it a day. harry keeps walking, annoyed that suddenly everybody in the room have their eyes glued on him as he makes his exit.

“harry! don’t leave me alone,” taylor yells at him, “you’re not going to leave me again. not now, not ever. you belong with me.”

 

mckenzie has only seen this harry before, only once but that was a different situation. she palms his back, his shaking spine, murmuring soothing words to him. harry had only said, “louis hates me!” before he broke down crying, snot dripping from his nose, his eyes red from crying, fresh, salty tears staining his ever-red cheeks and thighs as his head hangs low from weeping bitterly.

she had asked liam, through text, what went down at rehearsals but all liam texted back is that harry is a proper wanker. that did not help much. luckily, kendall texted the entire event on their whatsepp group chat and mckenzie understood.

she watches harry slam his forehead on the steering wheel of his ferrari, his waterfall tears falling down on the horn area and staining the ferrari logo.

soothing his back, she calls him calmly, “harry.”

“i ruined everything,” he chokes amidst sobs, “i ruined everything. the one good fooking thing i ruined it.”

“did anne say something?”

harry wipes the tears on his cheeks with the heel of his hand and rests the back of his head against his leather car seat. “father called.” mckenzie nods knowing that is explanation enough. if dr styles’ calls from canada for something to change, it happens. instantly without questions or explanations. “he called daddy taylor and talked and next thing i know mother said i’m taking taylor no matter what.” fresh tears flow out of his green eyes as he leans his forehead back to the steering wheel, “and now louis hates me forever.”

mckenzie’s heart breaks inside of her seeing her bestfriend crying about something he cannot control, something that is completely beyond his control. “louis… he understands where you’re coming from.”

“it’s not even the fact that i’m going for the ball with someone else, but taylor,” he chokes on a sob, “and i’ve known for nearly a week now without telling him.”

mckenzie remans quiet, the loud and wet sobs are the only sounds being made inside the ferrari. she does not know what to say to him, nor how to comfort him because, well, she has never seen this side of him (apart from _that_ one time) and it is scaring her. it scares her so much that she gets angry at taylor, at liam, at niall… niall!

she removes her phone from her clutch bag, harry sobbing by himself in the passenger’s seat, and texts niall immediately.

 

 **K:** WHAT THE FOOK DID YOU DO?

 

niall does not reply, unusual because niall is a fast texter. she throws her phone on the dashboard and suggests that they go out, to drink away the rehearsal. harry nods (sniffing and wiping tears away) and she, switching seats, drives the both of them to a raging club in the heart of london.

at the club, mckenzie is keeping an eye on harry drunkenly gyrating his body with a handsome lad with far too much gel, mckenzie thinks, as she pockets out her phone from her green clutch bag.

 **NIALL:** What?

 **K:** WHAT DID YOU DO TO HARRY YOU FOOKING DICK!

 **NIALLER:** Oh wow! Why assume it was me??

 **K:** Because anything that happens to Harry is always about you and Taylor, clearly.

 **NIALLER:** Oh! You mean the dance rehearsal today??

 **K:** WHAT DID YOU TWO DO TO MY BESTFRIEND?!

 **NIALLER:** It was not me.

 **NIALLER:** Not this time!!

 **K:** What does that mean?

 **NIALLER:** Whatever happened to dickhead Harry was not my fault.

 **K:** What was T planning?

 **NIALLER:** I don’t know. I’m sort of busy now, McKenzie.

 **K:** Harry’s crying.

 **K:** The bad kind.

 **K:** Like last time-bad.

 **NIALLER:** Oh shit!!

 **NIALLER:** OH NO NO NO!! NOOOOOOO!!

 **K:** Exactly. Harry never cries but he did, and he still is right now so please tell me what Taylor did.

 **NIALLER:** Taylor told her father she broke up with Harry.

 **K:** Didn’t Daddy Taylor know?

 **NIALLER:** She lied saying that it was a break between them. So Daddy Taylor calls Dr Styles telling him all about the Haylor breakup. Then Dr Styles calls Anne and next thing we all know, Haylor is back together.

 **K:** Rumours going around that Harry told Taylor they aren’t back together as a couple but are just going for the Ball together.

 **NIALLER::** That’s not what Taylor is saying!!

 **K:** WHAT THE FOOK IS SHE SAYING?

 **NIALLER:** They’re back together!!

 **K:** THEY ARE NOT.

 **NIALLER:** You can’t argue with Dr Styles, McKenzie, everybody knows it!!

 **K:** Rumor has it that that Anne talked to Louis saying she wanted Louis and Harry to go together so it doesn’t make sense that suddenly Taylor is NOW going with Harry.

 **K:** OUT OF THE BLUE?!

 **NIALLER:** UGH!! Any conversation with Louis in it, I am out!

 **NIALLER:** But who doesn’t love a scandal?

 **K:** I think somewhere someone lied.

 **NIALLER:** Obviously Taylor but what about??

 **K:** I think Daddy Taylor pulled some strings like always but whose strings did he pull?

 **NIALLER:** PAUSE! Is he okay? What’s he doing now?

 **K:** Grinding on some lad with greasy hair.

 **NIALLER:** Taylor didn’t say much! All she said was that her father knew something about Anne that Dr Styles did not know!!

 **K:** What?

 **K:** WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

 **NIALLER:** I was so drunk that night, I don’t remember clearly!!

 **K:** THINK!!!!1!!!!!!!!!!!

 **NIALLER:** Calm down flat titties!!

 **K:** Because Trisha’s are real?

 **NIALLER:** They actually are :) One of the few girls in this school with big, REAL titties!!

 **K:** ANYWAY, do you think Daddy Taylor knows something terrible about Anne?

 **NIALLER:** Like what?

 **K:** I have no idea.

 **NIALLER:** Well… there was this time that Anne and Daddy Styles got into some argument.

 **K:** When? When was this?

 **NIALLER:** Last year.

 **K:** When last year?

 **K:** I don’t care. What happened?

 **NIALLER:** I was drunk!! I don’t remember but Taylor and I were walking to her room for sex I saw Anne and Daddy Taylor arguing about something Harry’s grandmother did.

 **K:** Not the point but wasn’t Taylor dating Harry that time?

 **NIALLER:** Like you said not the point.

 **K:** Grandmother Styles? You mean Dr Styles’ mother? Lily?

 **NIALL:** Yeah. Anne knew something about Grandmother Styles and Daddy Taylor were doing and I think Daddy Taylor is using that to make Taylor and Harry go together for the Ball.

 **K:** Do you think it’s an affair?

 **NIALLER:** She’s like 150-years old!!

 **NIALLER:** But it has to be something more?

 **K:** And of course Harry knows shit about the whole Anne, Daddy Taylor and Grandmother Styles scandal! GREAT!!!!!

 **NIALLER:** I can ask Taylor.

 **K:** Will she tell you?

 **NIALLER:** Sex does wonders!!

 **K:** I don’t want to know. Text me later.

 

  _*a couple of hours later*_

**NIALLER:** YOU STILL THERE?????

 **K:** Well?

 **NIALLER:** The sex was awesome.

 **K:** Don’t want to know that.

 **NIALLER:** It’s part of the story.

 **NIALLER:** Liam hates Harry FYI!!

 **K:** Why are you with Liam?

 **NIALLER:** Because he can help us with this whole Styles’ and Taylor scandal!!

 **K:** I feel like I’m missing something.

 **NIALL:** Taylor told me that I shouldn’t go with Trisha for the Ball, apparently Trisha wants to go with Zayn.

 **K:** But Zayn has Gigi.

 **K:** AND THAT’S NOT THE POINT! WHAT DID TAYLOR SAY?

 **NIALLER:** Grandmother Styles and Daddy Taylor made a deal early last year and Daddy Taylor is blackmailing Grandmother Styles because of it to make Harry take Taylor for the Ball!!

 **K:** Why?

 **NIALLER:** Because if anyone knew about the deal, especially Anne or Dr Styles, then everything would go to hell!!

 **K:** So it’s a secret?

 **NIALLER:** Technically yes.

 **K:** But secrets never stay hidden in our world, they’re always known. So you up for this?

 **NIALLER:** Nope because you’re helping Louis!!

 **K:** UGH! SUCK A DICK NIALLER!!

 **NIALLER:** Ask Zayn to help.

 **K:** You know what, no thanks, Zayn will change the subject to Gigi LIKE ALWAYS. Goodnight.

 **NIALLER:** What will you do?? I’m curious.

 **K:** Expose the deal of course. IN CASE YOU FORGOT Harry was crying.

 **K:** IN HIS CAR.

 **K:** LOUDLY.

 **NIALLER:** I GET IT!!

 **K:** LIKE UGLY CRYING & SNORT.

 **NIALLER:** OKAY, OKAY! I’ll find out what the deal is… but you know that means sex, right??

 **K:** EW! I don’t care.

 **K:** But don’t worry, Harry doesn’t love Taylor so sex her OUT OUT OOOUT

 **NIALLER:** Are you giving me sex advice?? :/

 **K:** You best fook her good to even give you the Julius sextape!!

 **NIALLER:** I have it!!

 **NIALLER:** Night K.

 **K:** Only Harry calls me K. Night Nialler.

 **NIALLER:** Take care of him.

 **NIALLER** Please!!

 **K:** Will do [:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... that went horribly....


	51. 0.50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> liam and mckenzie drag louis for the ball...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy lovelies ☺

> **no, I may not be the best, but I’m far from the worst,  
>  oh, i’ve seen trouble more than any man should bear! **

 

##  Scene 1

**_(LIAM PAYNE and MCKENZIE are parked outside LOUIS TOMLINSON’s house in LIAM’S matte Bentley at 7:49PM. Tonight is the Debutante Ball night.)_ **

**MCKENZIE:** So remember the plan, we are to lure Louis out of the house, get him dressed for the Debutante Ball, expose the truth about Grandmother Styles and Daddy Taylor, end Haylor and Louis and Harry walk up the stairs at the Ball and dance together, get drunk and whatnot. Anything else we’re forgetting?

 **LIAM:** Do you seriously think that’s going to work? You think Taylor won’t see our plan and sabotage it? _(looks out the window to LOUIS’ house)_ I can’t believe he opted out for the Ball though _(under his breath)_ Fuck Harry.

 **MCKENZIE:** You know it’s not his fault _(insists)_ You know that Li.

 **LIAM:** _(sighs, still looking out the window)_ I know but still, Harry could fight this.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(cries in disbelief)_ Fight with his father? Are you nuts? He was going to be murdered if he said that he’ll not take Taylor to the Ball, or worse, not go for the Ball because he was going with Taylor.

 **LIAM:** _(turns to MCKENZIE, smiles)_ Sometimes I’m happy that I have my parents as my parents and not Harry’s separated parents, or Taylor’s divorced ones, or Niall’s…

 **MCKENZIE:** _(raises her hand to his face, dry)_ We all have horrible parents, what’s new? Anyway, the second part is getting Louis dressed for the Ball… this is probably the hardest part.

 **LIAM:** I can deal with convincing him, i’ll be fine _(MCKENZIE gives him the look of ‘give me more information’)_ All I need to do is talk of him being the saving hero lad and whatnot and that Harry love him much more than Taylor and… all that love bullshit.

 **MCKENZIE:** It’s not bullshit. It’s adorable and Harry deserves something nice out of all of us.

 **LIAM:** Niall does.

 **MCKENZIE:** He’s an asshole, nothing more, nothing less.

 **LIAM:** No he’s not _(changes subject)_ Let’s go get Louis, we don’t have much time.

 **MCKENZIE:** I can’t believe Kendall is your date!

 **LIAM:** You’re with Chuck Bass, who’s crazier?

 **MCKENZIE:** I’d say Niall and Trisha but who am I to talk, right?

 **LIAM:** _(vague)_ Right _(instructing)_ Let’s go save Larry.

 

##  Scene 2

**_(LIAM PAYNE and MCKENZIE are standing in LOUIS TOMLINSON’s attic bedroom. LOUIS is currently ignoring them, staring at his blank laptop screen on his bed, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top.)_ **

**MCKENZIE** : _(pinches her nose bridge)_ Louis, just listen to us.

 **LIAM:** You’re just staring at your laptop screen anyway _(adding quickly)_ Ignoring us too.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(sits on the edge of the bed, LOUIS heaves a loud groan)_ We’re not leaving until you come with us for the Ball.

 **LOUIS:** I don’t wanna go.

 **LIAM:** You’re angry at Harry for going back to Taylor that we understand because he broke a promise he made to you… to himself. But you need to understand that it’s—

 **LOUIS:** _(spits)_ I need not understand anything Liam. He did it himself.

 **MCKENZIE:** No he didn’t. For once _(repeats)_ for once in his life this is beyond his control. If he could, you know that Harry would’ve gladly gone with you to the Ball.

 **LOUIS:** _(looks up from his laptop for the first time)_ Why is he going with Taylor?

 **MCKENZIE:** _(darts a ‘Can we tell him?’ look to LIAM who shakes his head at her, she turns to LOUIS who angry shuts his laptop)_ Listen, we can’t explain right now because… we just can’t but trust us on this.

 **LOUIS:** _(sarcastic)_ Oh wow! I feel so much better that I know this about Harry.

 **MCKENZIE:** Stop blaming Harry for things beyond his control _(spits)_ It’s not his fault

 **LIAM:** _(harsh)_ McKenzie.

**_(MCKENZIE eyes LIAM, her gaze flickering to LOUIS who is staring at LIAM. MCKENZIE sighs loudly, grunting, “Fook you Liam.” Under her breath as she exits LOUIS’ bedroom.)_ **

**LIAM:** _(firm)_ Listen to me here Louis _(LOUIS looks across at LIAM)_ I’m going to say something and I’m saying it because you know I love you, love you very much and I’d do anything to keep you happy because you’re my bestfriend, practically second…

 **LOUIS:** _(grunts)_ Get with it!

 **LIAM:** _(finishes)_ Family _(ducks head down, fiddling with his fingers not saying a word. He looks across at LOUIS, exhales)_ You made a promise to Harry to never run, to not leave him… you gave him a second chance _(quieter)_ You said you’d be his boat and he’s drowning Louis. He needs your help.

 **LOUIS:** I can’t help him anymore. I’m useless. Things are back to how they were.

 **LIAM:** Is this what you wanted? For things to go back like they were in Sophomore? Harry with Taylor, Niall fooking every girl in sight, Zayn with Brittany, Thursdays at Harry’s for his mansion parties, Monday’s for Niall, stupid brunches with the four of us, pretending that we’re all friends, happy with our lives when really we’re spiralling out of control… money the binding force. Then I met you.

 **LOUIS:** You technically hit me in the face with a football, that’s how we met.

 **LIAM:** _(smiling widely)_ I’m happy I hit you and not Nick, who was standing right next to you. _(confessing)_ You were my escape _(swallows thickly)_ I didn’t feel bored with my life anymore. I felt like I could finally breath because you were different… warm.

 **LOUIS:** That’s what Harry says about me.

 **LIAM:** He’s right.

 **LOUIS:** What about him? What about Harry?

 **LIAM:** You know if I could tell you I would but this is between his grandmother and Taylor’s father. They have a… made an agreement years back and now it’s a skeleton in both the Waldorf and Styles’ closets and it has to come out because… because Harry cannot be dragged into this stupid feud. He has no part in it, he shouldn’t be used as a bargaining chip for a stupid deal.

 **LOUIS:** You always say Harry isn’t involved but he willingly agreed to take Taylor to the Ball.

 **LIAM:** Dr Styles called.

 **LOUIS:** _(sighs in defeat)_ Just this once. I’m doing this for you.

**LIAM:** You’re doing this for Harry, I know. I can tell. I can see it.

 **LOUIS:** I don’t know what you’re talking about.

 **LIAM:** _(abrupt)_ Anne told me what she told you _(LOUIS turns around on his feet to LIAM)_ She told me about not fitting in, always feeling like the poverty-stricken outcast among us, that anyone else will always be a better fit for Harry.

 **LOUIS:** _(sneers)_ Your point?

 **LIAM:** She was wrong… is. Is wrong.

 **LOUIS _:_** _(walking to closet)_ Sure.

 **LIAM:** You know Harry more than any of us and you’ve only been friends for, what, 5 months? You saved him from his sadness and loneliness that the rest of us either ignored it, or did not know what to do so we swept it under the carpet and pretended it didn’t exist.

 **LOUIS:** That’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, watch him drown in his own body but did nothing.

 **LIAM:** You’re hurt about Harry going back to Taylor I get it but

 **LOUIS:** It doesn’t matter what I feel, it never does.

**_(Outside LOUIS’ bedroom door is MCKENZIE cheering and pumping her fists in the air, chanting “Larry!” quietly)_ **

 

##  Sene 3

**_(On the drive to the July Debutante Ball in LIAM PAYNE’s sleek Bentley. MCKENZIE connects her phone to the audio system. LOUIS TOMLINSON is listening to their conversation in the back seat staring out the window.)_ **

**LIAM:** _(grumbling)_ Not Avicii again.

 **MCKENZIE:** Avicii again.

 **LIAM:** _(complains)_ He sucks. Can’t sing to save his life. Why does he even bother to release albums when no one is listening to them anyway? _(MCKENZIE clears throat)_ Apart from his one, die-hard fan.

 **MCKENZIE:** We’re many, you prick!

 **LIAM:** Louis, support me here! _(LOUIS says nothing, LIAM looks through his rear view at LOUIS who is staring out the window)_ Louis?

 **LOUIS:** Hmm?

 **LIAM:** _(presses his lips together, turns back to MCKENZIE)_ What’s this rubbish playing now?

 **MCKENZIE:** It’s _Trouble_ by Avicii _(sings along to_ Trouble _)_ I’m a million miles ahead of where I’m from.

 **LIAM:** _(swerves his car to the left, cursing)_ Fook me!

 **MCKENZIE:** _(unperturbed)_ But there’s still another million miles to come.

 **LIAM:** _(with one hand on the steering wheel, he attempts to turn off the audio system but MCKENZIE slaps his hand away)_ Ow! What did you do that for?

 **MCKENZIE:** This is a sick song!

 **LIAM:** Is this what Damon listens to? _(MCKENZIE shoots a glance at him from the corner of her eye)_ Yes, I found out who your date is _(LIAM’s gaze flickers to her then back to the road)_ Why Damon though? He’s thin, pale, looks like he’s high on cocaine twenty-four-seven which I’m sure he is anyway… you can do better.

 **MCKENZIE:** Much better than your date, what’sherface? She’s pathetic definition of a rich girl who is a pure bitch, ruthless and for no reason.

 **LIAM:** Olivia is hot, what else is there to it?

 **MCKENZIE:** She can barely make a conversation as all she talks about is where she is going for the summer.

 **LIAM:** Speaking of, where are we going?

 **MCKENZIE:** Harry, Gigi and I are going to Hong Kong. You?

 **LIAM:** _(gaze flickers to LOUIS then back to the road)_ I’ll be staying in London this year.

 **MCKENZIE:** Why?

 **LIAM:** _(evasive)_ Don’t feel like flying out.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(frowns at LIAM, not believing his answer but drops the subject)_ Like I said before, Olivia’s a living bore.

 **LIAM:** Who says I want a conversation with her? _(wriggling his eyebrows)_  I can use her mouth for better things.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(understands the sexual hint)_ Eurgh! You’re pathetic, just like her.

 **LIAM:** She said no to Niall so who was I to say no to her?

 **MCKENZIE:** _(firm)_ Because it’s bitchy Olivia that’s why. Plus, last year she saw me having the new red matte nail polish and that bitch had the same exact nails as me the next day _(LIAM rolls eyes)_ It was horrific! I had to drag Kendall to the salon to change my nails and get the green ones and guess what the bitch did?

 **LIAM:** _(swerves to the left)_ Got green nails?

 **MCKENZIE:** _(irritated)_ What the fook ,right!? That bitch is copying my style _(groans in frustration)_  She isn’t original!

 **LIAM:** Her name is Greengrass after all _(MCKENZIE scowls)_ Isn’t it flattering someone wants to be like you?

 **MCKENZIE:** _(angry snort)_ But she’ll never be me no matter how much she tries _(stretches her arms in front of her looking at her purple matte nails)_ I bet she’s copied me tonight.

 **LIAM:** She’s not. She’s going to have yellow nails.

 **MCKENZIE:** Yellow?

 **LIAM:** Yellow and green. She wanted a Jamaican-themed attire.

 **MCKENZIE:** Is that why you have a green bowtie?

 **LIAM:** Yep.

 **MCKENZIE:** Well you look like an dick. All you’re missing are locks and blunts with Bob Marley playing in this car.

 **LIAM:** Maybe if we stopped listening to Avicii we can play my Bob Marley playlist.

 **MCKENZIE:** Never! _(sings along to_ Trouble _)_ Thinking that maybe, it might lead me home.

 **LIAM:** _(gaze flickers to LOUIS through his rear view mirror as he asks MCKENZIE)_ Do you have all the lyrics memorized?

 **MCKENZIE:** _(continues to sing)_ I’m a million miles farther and a long way from home.

 **LIAM:** _(dry)_ Guess that’s a yes.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(turns back to look at LOUIS resting his head on the back of the seat then back to looking at the road)_ I’m glad he’s here.

 **LIAM:** Me too.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(runs fingers through her hair, sincere)_ I hate to be serious for a minute but so much has changed since last year. I, for one, didn’t think I’d be in a car with you driving for the Debutante Ball or even have Louis in the back seat because let’s be honest, I’d have never known him anyhow.

 **LIAM:** We’re the same McKenzie, we haven’t changed. Harry is still with Taylor, Zayn with Gigi, Niall living like a bachelor, I’m not dating anyone like always, Chuck Bass missing out on everything that we do together, you not dating a girl because you’re apparently not a lesbian anymore.

 **MCKENZIE:** But we’ve all changed at the same time. _(softly)_ Harry especially.

 **LIAM:** He’s become more of himself _(eyes concentrating on the road)_ more sure and less what others think of him that’s true but at the same time he still cares too much what others think of him making a prisoner out of himself.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(moment of silence before speaking again)_ Haven’t we all been prisoners? Zayn for example is trying so hard to fit in with our clique ever since Mr Malik became bankrupt and poor. Gigi almost broke up with him because of it saying she does not date anyone who’s family earns less than a billion figures.

 **LIAM:** _(slows down for the red light, his eyes flicker to his rear view mirror, then to MCKENZIE)_ They did break up.

 **MCKENZIE:** Really?

 **LIAM:** That’s why he slept with Taylor that night at Niall’s party. He asked her for a favour: to ask Gigi to get back with him.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(eyes staring at the red light)_ Taylor and Niall are the two who haven’t changed much.

 **LIAM:** Taylor still thinks she can control everyone’s life because of her father.

 **MCKENZIE:** And Niall is a huge fuckboy who thinks he can get any girl to sleep with him.

 **LIAM:** _(prideful grin)_ He hasn’t though because I’m nicer than him in some ways and that’s why girls prefer me over him.

 **MCKENZIE:** But we’ve changed because Taylor’s biggest pet, Harry, is rattling in her cage. He wants to be free and that is what is scaring Taylor right now, what is making her do all these things to keep Harry on a leash but she can’t anymore _(emphasizes)_ Harry is not Taylor’s pet, Liam.

 **LIAM:** How do you know that?

 **MCKENZIE _:_** _(whispers)_ Because of him. It’s all because of him that everything has changed. While yes, I didn’t like him at first, I hated him with all my soul because I thought he was just using Harry for his money but he’s been with Harry for these few five, six months helping break free of the chains holding Harry down.

 **LIAM:** _(traffic light turns green and his car roars)_ Second chances.

 **MCKENZIE:** Harry hasn’t had the urge to jump off his rooftop for a while now, he reads Harry like tea leaves when the rest of us barely understand Harry. Dr Styles is busy working in Canada for the family company, Anne could care less about her own son, and let’s be honest, most of us stopped being Harry’s friend after his second suicide attempt _(tries not to wince)_ because we were too damn scared therefore that leaves Louis. He’s the only one that cares for him than all of us combined.

 **LIAM:** I see why then you wanted to find out about Daddy Taylor and Grandmother Styles secret… and why you wanted Louis to come _(hands grip the steering wheel)_ I see it now.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(sings)_ No I may not be the best, but I’m far from the worst!

 **LOUIS _:_** _(suddenly sings)_ Oh i’ve seen trouble more _(LIAM looks into his rear view mirror in surprise)_ than any man should bear!

 **MCKENZIE:** _(grins, sings along)_ But i’ve seen enough joy, i’ve had more than my share!

 **LOUIS:** _(singing along)_ And I’m still not done, I’m only halfway there!

 **MCKENZIE:** I didn’t know you like Avicii…

 **LIAM:** And i’ll keep saying he sucks! He should never have existed in the music industry… or in life.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(rolls eyes)_ What did Avicii ever do to you?

 **LOUIS:** That’s what I want to know too.

 **LIAM:** You’re on her side now? _(LOUIS smirks through the rear view mirror, LIAM rolls his eyes stopping at a red light)_ Can’t believe I’m in a car with Avicii fans.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(turns up the volume, sings at the top of her voice)_ I know that there’s a plan that goes way beyond mine!

 **LOUIS:** _(grins, sings along)_ Got to step back just to see the design!

 **MCKENZIE:** No I may not be perfect, but I’m loving this life!

 **LOUIS:** Oh I may not be perfect but I’m loving this life!

 **MCKENZIE:** _(song still playing in the background, facing LOUIS)_ If I don’t see you again tonight, I want to thank you for coming.

 **LOUIS:** Only here for Harry, not you or Liam.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(smiles)_ Thank you anyway.

 **LIAM:** _(makes eye contact with LOUIS in the rear view mirror, mouths)_ Thanks mate _(to MCKENZIE)_ Can we please change the bloody song now? I’m pretty sure that Avicii has more than one song on his album.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(laughing)_ Of course he does but this is his best song _(_ Somewhere In Stockholm _plays through the speakers)_ How about this?

 **LOUIS:** Love.

 **MCKENZIE:** _(cheers)_ Alright !

 **LIAM** : _(groans)_ Kill me please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 366/366!! the yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeear is over and i am going to stay up and watch 2016 faaaaaaaaaaaaade into the past [[[[[[[:
> 
> hope you have a fantastic NYE tonight, making midnight memories [;


	52. 0.51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> d-day of july debutant ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE PASSSED the 100,000 words mark!!! DIDN'T THINK I'D MAKE IT but the storyline, adn the kudos you amazing unicorns give me, keeps me writing [:
> 
> enjoy ☺

 

> **let the music be your guide  
>    
>  **

##  Scene 1

**_(It is Sunday evening, D-day for the July Debutante Ball. All the students are socializing in the large, pink room, drinking glasses of champagne while waiting for 8 o’clock for the event to start. Harry styles spots Trisha cappelletti from across the room and walks towards her happy to know someone that is not a spawn of the elite wealthy.)_ **

**HARRY:** _(grinning)_ You don’t know how happy I am to see you. Someone familiar who isn’t obnoxious.

 **TRISHA:** (sighs happily) I am too! I feel so lost right now. This is my first Debutante Ball and I still don’t know how to properly dance, my eyelashes are falling off right now, I think I ate too much of that garlic thing _(blows air onto her palm, then smells it)_ Yup, definitely too much, then I feel as if this corset is too tight, my date is I don’t know where…

 **HARRY:** I can help you dance, I’m pretty good at it. _(smirks)_ If I do so say myself.

 **TRISHA:** I’d love to.

 **_(They both head to the ballroom room where the Event shall be taking place in two hours. Harry clicks his fingers at the DJ who begins to play Pyotr Tchaikovsky’s_ ** **Swan Lake _. He takes TRISHA’s black elbow-length gloved hand and takes the lead at ballroom dancing. He places his hand on her back as Trisha curls her arm around his broad shoulders.)_**

 **HARRY:** So who’s your escort to the dance?

 **TRISHA:** (blushing) Nathanial Archibald.

 **HARRY:** (surprise) Nate? Really?

 **TRISHA:** Yeah. I was going with Niall but he blew me off for some that Claire girl in Zayn’s Chemistry class.

 **HARRY:** Typical Niall. Always takes the biggest fish in the sea and shows it off to everyone.

 **TRISHA:** I don’t care! (squealing) I’m just so excited for the Debutante Ball. Before I came to this school I was a Doncaster nobody. I came from nothing, I’m still sort of nothing and this Ball is going to change everything. For all of us.

 **HARRY:** That’s true.

 **TRISHA:** At this Ball, I’m making a name for myself. I’m going to stop being the nobody Trisha Cappelletti. I’m going to be known, to be seen as I walk up those stairs with Nate by my side and soon enough I won’t be bullied by Taylor and her stupid squad about coming from Doncaster and being poor. I’ll finally be someone.

 **HARRY:** (frowns) You’re not poor.

 **TRISHA:** Please, you don’t know what she says when you’re not around. We’re peasants to her because we don’t have the right bloodline, our bank accounts barely have five digits in them—

 **HARRY:** (interjects) All that does matter in our world but it’s not the only thing.

 **TRISHA:** That’s easy for you to say because you’re Harry Styles… _the_ Harry Styles if I might add (HARRY rolls his eyes) And to make it better for you, your escort to the Ball is the vile Taylor Waldorf. You’re basically set for the world, you have no regrets.

 **HARRY:** We all do. _(stops dancing abruptly)_ I think you’re good. You learn quick.

 **TRISHA:** _(pause)_ I know you and Louis aren’t talking and whatnot but he’ll come around. Promise.

 **HARRY:** Doubt it _(sits down on one of the white wooden seats, TRISHA joins him and crosses her leg at the knee)_ He hates me being Taylor’s escort. But he doesn’t understand that I couldn’t say no. My grandmother is coming, literally flew in a week ago just to see me make a debut to all of London. Make my mark so to speak.

 **TRISHA:** He was a jerk for that I agree, but you made a promise to yourself to keep off Taylor once and for all and you broke it. That’s why he’s mad. If you just explained it to him…

 **HARRY:** _(runs fingers through his hair)_ In my world Trisha, Louis is a nobody, in case you’ve forgotten. The Tomlinson family are nobody’s and it’s social suicide to go with him as my escort. If I went with him it would wreck my family’s reputation so much so we might end up like the Malik family – outcasts.

 **TRISHA:** Oh.

 **HARRY:** But I was ready to do all of that because he’s the one person in this stupid world of ours that cares about _me_ , genuinely. He doesn’t care about who my father is, what my mother is, what my name means, the Styles’ lineage, he doesn’t care for that. He cares about me.

 **TRISHA:** _(light)_ I care about you _(HARRY remains watching her intently)_ But I don’t know why you hate your world so much. I love it. It’s a chance for me to feel included.

 **HARRY:** Why?

 **TRISHA:** I want to be someone.

 **HARRY:** You are someone. You’re Trisha Cappelletti.

 **TRISHA:** Who the fook is Trisha Cappelletti? _(HARRY takes a sip of the white wine a waiter has placed for both of them on the table)_ A nobody that’s who! With this Ball everybody will know my name, moreso because I walked up the steps with an Archibald. And then in the end I can be the Queen of the school, take Taylor’s crown.

 **HARRY:** _(cocks eyebrow in surprise)_ If you wanted so badly to enter our world I could have asked you to be my escort for the Ball.

 **TRISHA:** It would have been wrong _(both chuckle with each other)_ You’re like… my sibling Harry.

 **HARRY:** I am?

 **TRISHA:** Well at first I liked you cause you were _the_ Harry Styles, oh my gosh, Harry! Then Louis and you started becoming close, hanging out, telling each other secrets and whatnot and _(mock frustration)_ soon you were all Louis could talk about. Funny thing is he only talked about the things I didn’t even know about you, what rumors did not talk about, what Taylor did not focus on which we all know is your bank account _(both snort)_ and I started to like you… as you.

 **HARRY:** Thank you.

 **TRISHA:** And then the Barbara thing happened _(HARRY stiffens)_ You trusted me, you didn’t care that I was just Trisha. You liked me for me, trusted me for me, and I knew from that day that you will always be different, you’ll be the best out of everyone in this Ball, this school, this society and I’m happy we’re friends.

 **HARRY:** Me too. And for the record, you are someone. But if you feel that you need to take the title of Queen from Taylor then i’ll be right behind you _(winks)_ Everyone knows it’s about time someone earned the title, not manipulated their way to the top.

 **TRISHA:** And you’re the King of the school.

 **HARRY:** Fighting for the title with Niall on that one, lately it’s been Niall though. But I don’t care. All I care is about making it right with Louis.

 **TRISHA:** Then trust me when I say everything will work itself out tonight.

 **HARRY:** I’m making my debut at this Ball with Taylor Waldorf, nothing could set it straight.

 **TRISHA:** Things have a way of working it out. Now I need to glue back my eyelashes or I might scare Nate away.

 **HARRY:** i’ll see you at the steps?

 **TRISHA:** i’ll be the girl with falling eyelashes! _(kisses his cheek)_ Toodles Harry.

 

##  Sene 2

**_(Taylor Waldorf’s personal stylist is putting final touches on her glorious, wealthy hair. On the seat beside her is Harry styles mindlessly staring at the white ceiling, fiddling with his polka dot bowtie.)_ **

**HARRY:** Nothing’s changed really.

 **TAYLOR:** _(watching herself in the mirror)_ What do you mean? Everything is changing. Everything is about to change once we walk up those stairs. We’re going to conquer everyone once we both make our debut. _(reaches for his hand, squeezes it)_ London will be ours love.

 **HARRY:** _(retracts his hand)_ Two months ago I didn’t even think I’d be going for this stupid Ball. I didn’t think you’d be my date, I didn’t even think I’d be alive to see this day.

 **TAYLOR:** Thankfully that twat of your peasant friend keeps saving your suicide ass from dying or else I’d have gone with Liam Payne as my escort _(faux gags)_ The horror.

 **HARRY:** You go with Liam? Please, you have a better chance going with Louis as your escort.

 **TAYLOR:** _(utter disgust)_ Ew! Take that filthy thought out of your head Harry. That’s outrageous. _(cheery)_ Your grandmother should be here soon to give me her emerald hairpin that she wore when she went with her escort for the Debutant Ball my grandfather Trip Waldorf.

 **HARRY:** Where’s my grandmother anyway?

 **TAYLOR:** _(ignores him)_ I think it’s beautiful that our grandparents went together for the Ball, and we get to carry the tradition.

 **HARRY:** _(dry)_ Traditions are lame.

 **TAYLOR:** It’s pathetic that people like Trisha think they can climb the social ladder just because they are going with an Archibald for the Debutant Ball. Who does she think she is? _(spits)_ She’ll always be a nobody.

 **HARRY:** She’s amazing.

 **TAYLOR:** _(to stylist, rudely)_ I’m done, you can go now! _(looking at self through mirror, air kisses herself)_ I look perfect. Tonight’s going to be unforgettable.

 **HARRY:** Who is Liam going with?

 **TAYLOR:** Olivia Greengrass, can you believe? Honestly, she is doing herself some justice. Her family is known for being, well (bitter laugh) whores so going with a Payne will help her being an elite in the London society. Did you know she got rejected by Columbia, Yale, Harvard and Princeton? _(HARRY remains quiet)_ Have you been drinking?

 **HARRY:** _(tiny smile)_ A little ( _blank)_ Where is my grandmother?

 **TAYLOR:** I’m sure she is around… somewhere. _(turns to him, narrows her eyes)_ You better be on your best behaviour tonight. I can’t have you ruining the Waldorf name by your stupid acts like stealing cars with your best mates Niall, Liam and Zayn.

 **HARRY:** Speaking of, rumor has it he isn’t coming for the Ball.

 **TAYLOR:** _(frowns at him)_ Why would Zayn come for the Ball? It’s not for the poor like him. Too bad Mr Malik couldn’t fix his finances in time for the Ball, then maybe he would have had a shot. I hear that Gigi dumped Zayn for that hot beau who is her escort.

 **HARRY:** Who exactly?

 **TAYLOR:** Some Dutch guy, think his surname is van der Woodsen or something along those lines.

 **HARRY:** Never heard of him.

 **TAYLOR:** Now Zayn is just like Louis, a nobody. Just like he has always been.

 **HARRY:** _(stands from his chair, eyes lock with hers)_ Just because we’re here together, going to the Ball together, you as my escort, does not mean we are good. We’re far from good Taylor, we’re enemies. When I dumped you a month ago, it was permanent. I don’t care what my father says, what Daddy Taylor threatens my family with, you and I will never be together again.

 **TAYLOR:** _(swallows her nervousness)_ I know that. I’m not blind _(sharp breath)_ I can see we’re through. This is just for today.

 **HARRY:** Good. I don’t want you thinking that this is more than what it looks like.

 **TAYLOR:** But you can’t deny we were good together. We will be perfect tonight, walking up those steps and show the world—

 **HARRY:** I just wonder why I can’t do that with Louis. Why can’t I hold his hand walking up the steps tonight?

 **TAYLOR:** _(snickers nastily)_ Because you’d need a tetanus shot after.

 **HARRY:** Why can’t I say that he’s the one I want to take? Why can’t it be like that?

 **TAYLOR:** Because Louis does not get what we are. We are not what he is, we’re so much better. We’re the chosen ones, Harry. Remember that.

 **HARRY:** I’d give up being a chosen one just for one kiss on the dance floor with him.

 **TAYLOR:** _(places lilac-gloved hand on her stomach with a  scowl on her red lips)_ Don’t make me gag my lunch, please.

 **HARRY:** _(warning)_ Puke on me and I’m leaving you on the steps.


	53. 0.52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's mother and grandmother are at war..

> **none of us know compassion.; we’re always fighting for ourselves, and ourselves alone.**

 

** **

this is it!

the final nail to grandmother styles’ coffin.

grandmother styles drowns a glass of scotch as the debutant ball event planner briefs her on the schedule for the night. her lips on the scotch glass she smiles briefly at no one in particular. she sets the glass down. it has been _years_ but finally, finally she will see her dream of the styles’ family and the waldorf family coming together once and for all, for good.

see, for years she has wanted the styles’ family and waldorf family to become one – the waldorf family but her son’s wife, mrs anne styles, has been blocking all forms of her plan to unite both families. why she wanted to unite both families? simply so that the styles’ family, which shall be combined to form the waldorf family, will be the second biggest family in the whole of england. the united kingdom combined!

grandmother styles’ head swoons at the amount of power she will finally have! all the money, the power and the glory all coming into play when taylor waldorf and harry styles walk up the stairs for their debut at the ball tonight.

her trance is cut sort when the person she despises most in this world calls her name. she turns around slowly, her hideous black hair is the first thing she spots on her daughter-in-law. “what?” she asks rudely. she is not alone. her gaze flickers to her left where mckenzie is standing, and to her right is liam… and a brown-haired boy she has never seen before.

“lovely evening?”

“until now,” she mutters rolling her eyes. “i need to make last minute changes before the ball can begin, i’ll see you later.”

“actually, you won’t be attending the ball,” mckenzie stops her from walking away.

“the act is over lily, your secret is out.”

lily furrows her perfect eyebrows. “what are you talking about anne?”

anne swallows. she hears the sneer from lily’s lips, dripping with disgust of the choice of wife that her dear son chose. “what you and daddy taylor have been planning for close to a decade now. it’s all out for everyone to read.”

if louis thinks anne is the scariest member of the styles’ family, he has been wrong. grandmother styles, or lily, is more scary than anne. anne looks like a saint near her. grandmother styles had some aura about her that send shivers down your spine just by being in the same room with her. her aura is cold, icy even, so cold that louis is surprised that she has not turned into an icy princess by now. or queen. icy queen. _the_ icy queen. all this he gets merely three minutes from being in the same room with lily.

anne jumps straight into the reason for this confrontation. “thanks to mckenzie and liam” – lily’s eyes flicker to the said persons – “i know you’ve been faking your cancer for close to a decade now. almost 10 years ago you and daddy taylor made a business deal to weaken the styles’ family. you collaborated in stealing money from my husband without his knowledge, even mine all in the pretence of, what was it, lung cancer?” anne bitterly chuckles. “fooker,” she says under her breath.

“i do have cancer,” lily gracefully says.

“liam, thanks to his father in being a trained physician, uncovered lots of reports of fake doctors that you went to visit all the while taking money from my family. you took all this money so that you would help strengthen the waldorf family, make them more powerful, richer, become the most respected family in england all the while we would be thrown under the bus.”

lily remains quiet, not moving a leg out of place, her chin stiff. louis thinks she has simply turned into her true form as the ice queen.

anne’s eyes squint at lily, her fingers curling in on themselves. “suddenly my husband had cases in court of corruption, fraud, embezzlement, and sometimes even murder which were all lies fabricated by daddy taylor. and what better way to keep my husband out of court than to allow his daughter to date harry. you made sure that your own son would stay out jail as long as taylor and harry were dating, if they broke up, if harry was not loving taylor enough, she would inform daddy taylor and my husband would be in the news again for the wrong reasons.

“and today,” she inhales deeply, “today was going to be your grand moment. today was the final touch to your master plan of joining our families together forever to achieve whatever sick, wicked plan you’ve been designing for close to ten years now.  but all that is going to fall apart because as for now taylor and harry will not be walking up the stairs for the debutant ball, my son will be going with louis tomlinson.”

“tomlinson?” asks lily. louis is suddenly in the limelight. he feels the stare from lily, even if there is a considerable amount of space between them, he can still feel the cold, piercing stare she is giving him. “who is louis tomlinson?”

louis opens his mouth. “i am—”

“none of your business!” liam interrupts him. louis gazes at liam with confusion then at anne who is looking straight at her mother-in-law, then at grandmother styles. “we’ve already told dr styles about everything and he is flying in tomorrow from canada.”

“your secret is out grandmother styles,” mckenzie speaks up, her voice almost in a growl. “you have nowhere to run. nowhere to hide anymore. daddy taylor will be taken to jail on cases of fraud, and you as well, it is just a matter of time now.”

“hasty,” lily smirks. it is as if all these accusations have not made the slightest impact which is what anne is worrying about. “hasty mckenzie is what taylor calls you.” she takes two graceful steps to anne saying, “hasty hasty.”

“i’m not!”

“mckenzie,” anne silences her. then to lily she asks: “what exactly were you benefitting by stealing our money? from using harry as a puppet in your own little game? what good will it do to you?”

“you forget easily sweet anne,” she squeaks, “you forget easily.”

“forget what?”

“forget who brought you out of the miserable life you were in. i gave you my husband, i gave you money, power, influence, control, all your desires and this is how you repay me?” she pauses. lily has always perfected the art of talking: when to speak, when to not speak, when to remain quiet to let her words sink in, and most importantly, never to break the mask of remaining neutral.

one must never show emotions, she had always been taught.

“you can’t threaten me anymore!” anne spits. “not this time lily. not this time because finally my husband can see the witch you really are.”

“and how sweet anne will you survive without me watching over you?”

“i’ve done well so far.”

“gemma is in rehab and she will be out when harry graduates university. harry is pathetic for a son. he barely got into harvard, he did not get into yale, that was because of you, he got rejection letters from five ivy leagues. he has no friends to speak of, he barely loves taylor because he is incapable of love not with the type of mother that he lives with,” – anne snarls at her – “and to make it worse, he is a homosexual.”

now it is louis’ turn to snap back at lily. liam holds him by the shoulder firmly and he stays put. best not to meddle in family affairs, he tells himself.

“not to mention harry is losing sight of what is important to this family. he is going to end this family and what better way to end it than kill himself?” lily smirks watching all four faces stare back in horror and fury at her. “but of course that idiot of a tomlinson keeps preventing harry from his destiny. if harry dies then gemma can make the styles’ name proud, once again. she will bring glory back to this family.”

“you motherfucker!” louis screams. liam hushes him but not this time, nobody stops the tomlinson. “you idiotic motherfucker! you think harry is a pawn in your game? you don’t think he has feelings? you don’t think he is human? you can’t control him to achieve your outdated rules of living, do you hear me? you can’t force him. harry has brought grace and respect to the styles’ family in the last seven months than any styles ever has.” his eyes burn with angry flames at the ice queen but not even his fire can melt the ice queen.

“by being a drunk, emo, homosexual twat?” she throws back. “you’re mistaken little boy.”

“what did you say?” louis pounces at her but is immediately pulled back my liam. anne instructs liam to take louis out of the room which proves difficult considering louis is quite strong, despite his body size. mckenzie  helps liam in carrying louis out of the room and it is just the two of the styles women.

“this is it lily, this is the last straw. louis was right, harry has brought a light to the styles family and just by that we have become more respected in england, and canada as well.”

“that’s not enough.”

“just because the styles’ family used to be the most powerful family during the first and second world wars does not mean that it has to be now. more important things have come up—”

“and blinded all of you in the family,” she growls. she quickly puts on her mask of neutrality and grace. “i will have my glory sweet anne, even if someone has to go to jail, disappear or die, i will get it.”

“you can’t threaten me anymore and you know why?” she asks rhetorically. “because of the boy.”

“tomlinson?”

“yes.”

“how will he help you? he is a nobody!”

a small smile draws on her lips because she used to think the same way, until recently. “i thought the same thing. i wondered what harry saw in tomlinson, why he would choose this little boy over the better option in that being taylor. i didn’t understand until i went to have a little chat with him, until i started to notice that i didn’t know,” she inhales deeply, “who my son was. i barely knew who harry but here is this tomlinson, who knows my son so well, more than niall and liam, and they’ve barely known each other for two years.”

“what does this have anything to do with…”

“it’s because that boy is compassionate.” lily frowns at anne, expecting more of an explanation to her cryptic one-liner. “simple as that,” anne shrugs.

“what does compassion have to do with anything?”

“none of us know compassion. we only know alliances, conveniences, the end-goal; we’re always fighting for ourselves, and ourselves alone. we do not stop and care about others because, well, it’s not in our nature. but harry is both.”

“both?”

“he is both of our world, ruled by bloodlines, power, and bank accounts and he is also of the tomlinson world, ruled by compassion and love, in its purest form. everyday harry is battling between who he is and how he is perceived by society. he is stuck in-between categories of being a styles, definitions of who is based on who he dates, who is parents are, where he is going to school, his future…”

lily is growing impatient. she still remains her graceful posture, her mask of neutrality stamped on her face. “so?”

“in the end he doesn’t fit in like niall, mckenzie, taylor, heck even zayn all do. they fit in because they aren’t like harry, they don’t have the tomlinson trait that harry has. harry is then forced to try and fit in with our world but here comes the little boy, who taps into harry’s other side and harry’s world is so much easier. he has peace of mind, finally, and he can be himself.”

“he’s deluded. he has been brainwashed by this tomlinson faggot. he has to be brought back into line that is why i made sure he was going to walk up those stairs with taylor waldorf no matter what.”

“i don’t know who my son is becoming,” she exhales suddenly exhausted talking to her mother-in-law, “but i like him better now. i like who he is now and i want him to be whatever he chooses, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“this is the first time you’ve even defended your children,” lily notes, “interesting how you pick the timing. after all timing is everything.”

“like i said, you’re going to jail for your crimes, harry will walk with whoever he wants which we know is tomlinson, and you’re gone for good.”

“oh sweet anne, you think that’s all?”

“yes.”

“it’s not.”

“what else is there?”

“do you remember the malfoy family?”

yes, yes she remembers the malfoy family. an icy chill runs down her spine and her eyes turn black in fear by the mere mention of the name. lily smirks seeing the effect of the name malfoy has on her.

“the malfoys are coming back.”

“no!”

“and they’re asking for war. everybody is going to be eliminated, all of us, and we will if we don’t join forces together. they can wipe us all out, perhaps not the payne family, but the rest of us will be out in the cold if we don’t do something about it now. you see why harry had to walk with taylor”

“unlike before lily,” she stresses her name, “we have tomlinson on our side.”

lily remains quiet, her neutral mask on full mode as she ponders about what her daughter-in-law has just said. how can a tomlinson help the styles family? he is a nobody. the malfoy has nothing on the tomlinson family – and the styles’, the horans, the paynes etc.

“you’re a fool sweet anne, you and my son. you’re all fools.  you can’t put faith in your stupid son, he’ll bring disgrace to this family. and shame. and you will lose power.”

“i don’t know what the malfoys did to you but that’s your battle. the malfoy’s don’t care about us.”

“don’t be hasty, sweet anne,” lily says gracefully, “don’t be hasty.”

“go fook yourself,” anne shouts surprising herself. lily however remains calm, unfazed by her daughter-in-law’s outburst. she blames it on her usual drinking.

“send my regards to my son,” she says bidding anne adieu. she leans forward to anne, and whispers menacingly, “don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

anne keeps her ground. “you don’t frighten me.”

“you will pay for your mistakes, and like always, harry will bear the punishment for you hasty decisions.”

she collapses onto one of the chairs once lily leaves the room gracefully, drowning a glass of champagne on the table. “we have tomlinson,” she whispers to herself. she drowns another glass repeating, “we have louis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am almost at 1000 hits ☺☺☺☺☺☺ and im too excited to reach there & it's all thanks to all of you READING MY STORY !! thanks sooo much ☺


	54. 0.53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the ball!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning for GIFs.........

 

> **we took the floor and she said,  
>  “oh, don’t you dare look back…”**

 

harry stands up from his wooden seat at the great ballroom hall, and walks to the bar to fetch three glasses of champagne for himself, louis and zayn.

it is a few minutes past midnight, the debutant ball having passed without a hitch. harry has not stopped grinning since 8 o’clock when he got to choose who he could walk up the stairs with and of course he chose louis. he got to walk with louis up those steps, show the entire world, their universe that he did not care for neither family names nor bank accounts but for the _person_. but most important is that he got to have a dance with him, and a kiss right on the dance floor with beethoven playing soundly.

he does not know what exactly happened between his arrival at the hotel where the ball would be taking place and its commencement, how come he suddenly had been allowed to be louis’ escort and not taylor’s. all that he will talk to his mother about once the ball officially ends. right now, champagne.

someone pats his shoulder forcefully and it can only be one person.

“hi niall,” he groans and drowns the second glass of champagne in his hand. “what do you want?”

“i don’t know what is going on between you and taylor, but it seems as if a lot of people are involved tonight. mckenzie, liam, somehow louis, your mother too, are all in on why you got to be louis’ escort and not taylor’s.”

“if you think i know something, you’re mistaken. i know nothing,” harry tells him truthfully.

“and you went along with it, without questions?” niall accuses. he snorts. “of course pathetic, suicidal harry would do anything for skater boy louis without thinking about the consequences.”

harry groans internally. he is bored by niall’s passive accusations. “what’s your point, niall?”

“my point is you’ve destroyed the order that this school has. we, the wealthy, are meant to be the heads of the school but if people see you walking with the peasant likes of louis then people are going to think we are a bunch of nobodies. i’ve heard people talk—”

“taylor was escorted by ian somerhalder, so what’s it to you?” harry attacks. “zayn walked with gigi, trisha with nate, you with olivia—”

“and you with a tomlinson! a nobody from doncaster!” he sneers. “you don’t deserve anything! your father would be ashamed of you right now. he will be when he reads that you, a styles, took a nobody to the debutant.”

harry rolls his eyes. “i’m done talking to you.”

niall folds his arms across his chest, fuming. he stops harry in his footsteps by asking, “have you heard?”

harry turns around, balancing two glasses of champagne in his left hand, and one glass between his fingers. “heard what?”

“that you and louis are dating now,” he says with disgust, “is it true?”

“what’s it to you?”

“you’re going to regret being louis’ escort, harry styles!” niall warns.

harry simply rolls his eyes and walks away from niall, ignoring his endless questions of whether he is dating louis. a part of him wonders though what niall means by that threat.

 

 

across the room, taylor swallows thickly as her heels clink against the floor walking to liam’s table. her eyes meet with louis’ who mumbles something to liam and gets up to meet harry with glasses of champagne. she sits on the chair besides liam and folds her leg on her knee.

“what?” liam says curtly.

“i don’t know what anne is up to, or what you and mckenzie did to convince louis to forgive harry for talking me to the debutant ball but you’re all stupid.”

“you’re the imbecile.”

“not this time, liam. you can’t bullshit your way out of this just because you’re old money when we’re all new money.”

“you’re talking as if harry and louis being each other’s escorts has somehow made a war within us.”

“it has, don’t you see?” she hisses. “the styles’ family cannot protect themselves from the waldorf family—”

“your father is going to jail for fraud and other cases. serves him right for making everyone suffer just because his daughter does not like the way harry dresses, or because gigi wants to end her relationship with zayn because he’s poor now and cheated on her with you… we’re all free now, taylor and don’t _you_ forget that.”

“i could care less about zayn’s life and his father’s bankruptcy case,” taylor waves her hand in the air dismissively, “i care about someone we both have in common.” liam raises an eyebrow at her indicating that she should explain herself further. “lucius malfoy.” a shiver runs down his spine and taylor’s lips tremble for a second and a half. “grandmother styles said that they are coming back to london.”

“why?” he fumes. “why is the malfoy family coming back to london? they have no business in london. what happened to the ban that they got from the government?”

taylo’s french manicured nails drag along the table, her eyes strained on a white spot on the black table. “the government lifted the ban.”

“what?” liam suddenly screams in fury. the music currently playing drowns his yelling. “what do you mean the government lifted the ban?”

“exactly that!”

“so your good-for-nothing father wasn’t able to keep the ban in place? did he accept a bribe from the malfoy family to lift the ban, or worse, did he _willingly_ lift the ban? we all know all daddy taylor wants is power and he will get it regardless of who he hurts in the process, or befriends,” he narrows his eyes at her, “just like his daughter.”

“my father does what is needed for the waldorf name to remain powerful but befriending the malfoy family is atrocious. no way in this world would he let the ban be lifted. so it must be someone who _wants_ the malfoy’s back in england.”

“who the fook would want the malfoy family back in england?” liam grits between his teeth. “it took all of our forces, powers to get the malfoy family out of england for good after what happened in freshmen year. and now you’re telling me all that is going to be a waste?”

“that’s why you were all buffons,” she scowls. “you were stupid in making harry’s escort be louis and not me. if the styles’ family and my family combine together we would be the second most powerful family in all of the uk but you and that cunt mckenzie are all team larry.”

“grandmother styles is a vicious woman.”

“yes she is but she always has a reason for her actions. she wanted us to walk together because she knew about the malfoys.”

“no,” liam shakes his head, “she just wanted to bankrupt the styles’ family, as if that would happen, not because of the malfoy family returning to england. anne said that she only brought that up later, when it was too late to change anything.”

“and now we’re all bloody going to pay the price all because harry loves louis. fook.”

“what’s done is done taylor,” liam sighs, “nothing we can change about it now. we just have to prepare ourselves for lucius and his arrogant son, draco.”

“don’t forget narcissa,” adds taylor, “if there were was a cold, bitch ass mother it goes to narcissa.”

“when are they coming to england?”

“daddy said by end of september.”

“so we have a good two months before they come.”

“hey guys,” zayn interrupts them, “have you seen gigi anywhere?”

“no,” liam shakes his head. “why?”

“just wondering,” he replies vaguely and walks away. he scans the room for gigi but she is nowhere to be found. he then finds himself in the middle of the ballroom watching the room at all the guests mingling with each other, others are drinking by the bar, having had too much already. a group of pretty girls are hurdle together gossiping about the latest rumor: louis and harry are dating. is it true, zayn does not know and he could care less. there are boys standing by the wall muttering under their breaths about hot girls, a few dancing lazily to _second chances_ by the band imagine dragons.

 

he makes it to the end of the room. the lights have been dimmed slightly to set the mood, the new song playing in the room and more couples get off their seats and walls to gather onto the large dance floor. the girls wrap their silky arms around their escort’s neck and the boys fold their strong arms on their date’s small waist swaying to the sounds of _you’re beautiful_ by james blunt.

trisha comes rushing to harry and louis chatting in hushed tones between themselves. she is glowing, louis notes. she asks harry if she can borrow louis for this dance and as it is, it is her all-time favourite song.

“who hates this song anyway?” harry jokes. he kisses louis on the cheek and louis and trisha make their way to where the other couples are slow dancing. trisha wraps her arm around louis neck and lays her head gently on his strong shoulders, while louis holds her waist tightly.

“we made it, didn’t we?” she asks, her lips lightly brushing his left ear as her gaze lands on zayn standing with his back against the wall. “we’re finally in. we’re not outcasts anymore, we’re not nobodies, we’re _someone_.”

“but i can’t help but think what i’ve done to harry all because i didn’t want to be bullied by taylor,” louis sighs. “was it worth it?”

trisha cups louis’ cheeks with her gloved fingers, locking his blue orbs with hers. “listen to me, what has happened for the last seven months is not our fault. we didn’t make haylor end, we didn’t make niall and harry to hate each other’s guts, we didn’t create taylor to be a bully, we weren’t part of barbara’s weird disappearance, it’s not our fault that their world have bad blood with each other, that their parents act like teenagers, their children are fooked up and hide it with exquisite jewellery and fast cars, it’s none of our fault. we didn’t cause any of that, we were just part of their messed… lives.”

“we’ll never fully fit in, we’ll never be like them no matter how much we fake it, we’ll never enter their world.”

trisha chuckles to herself, her gaze flickering down to louis’ unbuttoned shirt before raising back to his eyes. “if dan humphrey from _gossip girl_ could make his way inside by writing a novel about the upper east side, then so can we. well, we don’t write a book… maybe you,” – louis rolls his eyes at her – “but we can enter in other ways. tonight, we both went to the debutant ball with one of the most influential families of london society, the archibald and styles families, that’s saying a lot.”

“i guess you’re right. but you know what this means?”

“what?”

“there’s no getting out,” louis warns. “we’re in it forever.”

“who would want to get out?” she asks. her gaze catches zayn’s standing by the wall and her smile falters. “we’re stronger than zayn.”

louis turns his head back to follow trisha’s gaze to zayn standing against the wall, an empty champagne glass in his hand. he turns back to trisha, grabs her hand, making their way off the dance floor. he picks up a bottle of whiskey from the bar, and holds it up in the air.

“to the rest of our lives not being misfits,” he announces to her. trisha giggles as louis chugs gulps of it and hands it to trisha to drink.

“to being the misfits!” she cheers, taking another chug. “with my bestfriend,” she adds. she is too giggly, drinking gulps of whiskey that louis takes the bottle off her, mumbling something about sharing.

“what are we celebrating?” harry asks the two of them. trisha falls into fits of giggles and louis laughs despite himself. “too much too drink?” he asks eyeing the bottle of whiskey in his friend’s hand. he takes it from him and takes a gulp of it.

“being royals,” trisha replies to harry’s earlier question, “that’s what we’re celebrating.”

harry frowns, asking questions to louis with his eyes. louis shakes his head as he slides his arm around harry’s waist and lays his head on his broad shoulder. harry rounds his arm around louis’ shoulder, placing a hurried kiss on the top of his head.

to trisha, he says, “y’know you could have taken a champagne bottle.”

“we’re whiskey people,” she says as she quickly winks at louis. her eyes suddenly light up before harry can say a stupid remark, “i hear there’ll be fireworks.”

louis head shoots up from harry’s shoulder, his excitement matching trisha’s. “let’s!” he breathes. they two turn to harry who sighs in defeat. “yes!” he cheers and slides his arm with trisha’s as the girl wriggles her fingers with harry’s dragging both of them to the rooftop of the hotel where others have gathered to watch the fireworks.

 

mrs rivers, the organizer of the july debutant ball, announces that the fireworks shall begin in 10 minutes. louis and trisha excuse themselves to go somewhere off leaving harry with liam to talk about the return of the malfoy family. however, last minute liam decides to leave that bit of information for the time being, not wanting to ruin harry’s night further and they talk about nothing at all. save for louis, of course. and liam’s hot escort.

minutes to the fireworks, louis and trisha re-join harry and liam, who are now standing with zayn and nate taking about their summer holiday plans.

“y’know i love you, right?” louis tells trisha solemnly. “you’re like my sister and lottie would be proud of you, honest.”

trisha fights back the tears, smiling through the pain. “i miss her too william.” she uses his middle name loving how he rolls his eyes and the ‘tsk’ sound he gives her. lottie some time back caught on and she would also call him william, the irritation crawling on louis’ skin. if he is honest, he didn’t mind the name, it just felt odd being called by his middle name.

“are you coming over tonight?”

“wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she cheers. “i missed your dad’s dentist stories.”

“oh he’s piled up so many just for you. he even stopped telling us some saying, ‘it doesn’t feel right saying my stories without trish.’ so now we usually wait for you. except there is one where this kid, thomas i think, a thirteen-year old who bit his—”

“no!” she shouts, her fingers covering her ears. “i don’t want to hear it.” she drops her hands to louis’ shoulders. “plus your dad says them so much better than you do.”

harry turns and sees the two walking towards him and his smile is so bright, louis thinks it’s the most beautiful feature on harry. “you look stunning when you smile,” louis says to him.

“you look stunning,” harry compliments back. trisha coughs dramatically. “you too trisha, of course.”

“i’m much more than this potato,” she says her thumb pointing at louis.

“of course,” harry winks.

“oi!” louis protests. “you’re ju—”

the fireworks roar in the sky just then, stopping louis halfway. harry catches louis’ hand with his as the night sky is decorated with red, blue, and white colors, the flag of the united kingdom. below, harry can feel louis’ fingers playing his with crown ring, twisting it around his middle finger. the fireworks become louder, the colors changing to green and silver, their school colours and it looks majestic in the sky with the london night sky backdrop.

 

 

the music fills the rooftop, the sounds of _shut up and dance_ playing in under the night sky of green and silver and the bodies on the rooftop move and wriggle, others singing along. louis pulls on harry’s hand backwards, stepping away from his friends. he lifts both his hands in the air, their feet moving on the ground, their eyes locked with each others.

 

 _“oh, don’t you dare look back_  
_just keep your eyes on me.”_  
 _i said, “you’re holding back.”_  
 _she said, “shut up and dance with me!”_  
 _this woman is my destiny_  
 _she said, “ooh-ooh-ooh, shut up and dance with me.”_

 

the chorus chimes in, louis singing quietly to harry, their hands up in the air, noises all around them but not to them. louis arches his back, throwing his head as far back as he can as harry holds onto him tightly.

 

 _we were victims of the night,_  
_the chemical, physical, kryptonite_  
 _helpless to the bass and the fading light_

louis screams suddenly with joy, his fingers gripping harry’s firmly, his screams rippling through harry’s body with nothing but pure joy. and drunkenness. harry pulls him back, wrapping his arms around his own white button-up. louis squeezes tightly as more fireworks break out all around them, walk the moon vibrating beneath their feet.

 

 _my discothèque, juliet teenage dream._  
_i felt it in my chest as she looked at me._  
 _i knew we were bound to be together,_  
 _bound to be together._

louis looks down from the sky to find harry already gazing down at him. louis tiptoes and presses his lips to his heart-shaped lips. harry’s fingers card through louis’ slighty sweaty hair, pushing his closed lips closer to his. harry’s eyes shut on their own and he slowly bends louis backward, his other hand holding his waist steady. louis’ hands move to cup harry’s neck without breaking their closed kiss.

 

 _she took my arm,_  
_i don’t know how it happened._  
 _we took the floor and she said_  
 _“oh, don’t you dare look back…”_

 

harry smiling through the kiss – louis feels happiness radiating all around him. the happiness that lit the room up, like a bright blinding light, like the feel sunrise when the night is over, like the feel of the first drag of a cigarette in the morning, or your song coming on the radio as you drive down the road – this is what kissing harry feels like.

 

 _deep in her eyes,_  
_i think i see the future._  
 _i realize this is my last chance._

louis’ lips feel softer on his own as he breaks their kiss and he already misses his lips. still holding louis slightly diagonally, he mouths, “more.” louis obliges, kissing him longingly and soundly, their lips tightly shut. love

kissing him, harry realizes three things: one, that home is not a place, but a feeling. two, that time is not measured by a clock, but by moments spent with someone you truly care about. and three, most of all three, that heartbeats are not only heard, but felt and shared. he wraps his arms tighter around louis his heart melting at realizing these three things about _louis_.

_shut up and dance with me  
she said, “ooh, ooh, hoo, shut up and dance with me.”_

however, trisha screams happily in both their ears and harry almost topples louis to the ground.

“you’re both my favourite men,” she shouts above walk two moon. “i love,” –  she presses her glossy lips to harry’s jaw – “you” – she kisses louis on his cheekbone – “both so much!”

 

 _“don’t you dare look back_  
just keep your eyes on me.”  
  
_i said, “you’re holding back._  
 _she said, “shut up and dance with me!”_  
  
_this woman is my destiny._

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE THIS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG TBH!!! LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE AND least Harry and Louis got to do to the dance together ♫♫♫♫♫♫♫


	55. 0.54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and louis go on their first official date.. with a terrible start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy ☺

> **surrounded by plastic cards, shiny jewels, fast cars, glasses champagne, and super rich kids, he is the only one who has loved.**

 

** **

louis groans into his menu. what should he order? he can barely read any of the items on the menu. even if it is all in english.

louis had thought the worst of the worst had already happened ever since the ball on sunday when he and harry walked up the stairs, showing the world that a rich bloodline can walk with one who is not, but really, it was all just beginning.

if monday is one thing to write about it is that no one had been happy in school. everybody was snarling and scowling at him, the loudest and showy  being niall. niall had been angry, yelling at harry for being stupid, shouting at him for the return of the malfoys (whoever they are, louis thinks), and by banging the table exclaiming that of all the people, why did it have to be louis? why not the dim witted _maria_? at least her uncle is fabulously rich.

tuesday gets worse and he starts to feel what anne and zayn have been telling him since weeks ago. anne for one does not mince her words when she, out-of-nowhere, had visited him in his house. she, mainly with a lot of pride and contempt in her voice, stated that many people will not treat louis as a mere human being. he will always feel different, stick out like a thumb walking amongst the rotten rich. to put it simply, she stated that there will always be a language that the rich around him speak, and it will sound like english, but it will not be english. he will not be able to hear them.

not forgetting, she expressed her scorn that he will never be enough for her wealthy son.

zayn, that time in edinburg, had put it lighter than anne, but the message was the same. nevertheless, zayn had insisted that the wealthy are ruled by money and power first, then blood lines, or vice versa. people in this world, zayn had continued to warn him while watching horses racing, act like adults, grownups act like children, everybody fights for power, for control, for domination, and they do not care who they hurt in the process. secrets are guarded highly, all of them spreading lies, propaganda, gossip all wrapped in a wealth of numbers that normal britons never see in their lifetime.

everyone is a super rich kid, with fake everything else, including themselves. apart from harry, liam reminds him constantly. harry is different from all of them. but for someone who has grown up with these cruel people, they can only be the same, louis thinks.

after all, birds of a feather flock together.

“what are you thinking so hard about?”

“what to order,” louis forces a smile at harry sitting across the table. liam had recommended this place – butter – stating that this was one of harry’s favourite restaurant, especially since this was their official first date.

louis is however not sure because if he is being honest, harry has been stiff ever since they walked through the doors of butter. actually, ever since he picked him up (using liam’s audi) from his mansion. harry is good at masking his disappointment but because louis can read harry better than most people, including anne, he can tell harry is not enjoying himself.

“you can order the jfai ak’falop,” harry suggests. louis blinks out of his thoughts. “it’s just beef, actually.”

“sounds delish,” he tightly smiles. delish? he does not say ‘delish’. ever. he must be nervous. or anxious. he peeps through his menu at harry sitting across from him. he is dressed to the nines, harry never missing an event, or occasion, to dress up while he tried hard to dress up but he could not wear those ugly suit pants. eurgh!

“how was your day today?” he sheepishly asks harry once the waiter as taken their order and filled their glasses with red wine.

“i played tennis with liam in the afternoon,” harry tells him. “kendall and jamie broke up, and i happened to be walking by so she explained the whole thing to me.” he takes a sip of his wine. “it took a whole hour.”

“fun.”

“hardly,” harry drinks his wine again and louis sweats. this is not good. their conversation has always been flowing, endlessly, but now it’s choppy. strained. “you?”

“huh?”

“what about you?” harry repeats. “how was your day?”

he shrugs one shoulder. “fizzy had her boyfriend over last night.”

“your mother has allowed boys to sleep over?”

“no. mama doesn’t know. so he had to leave by 10 seeing as mama was coming back home by 11 from her date date with dad,” louis explains.

their conversation continues, louis stabbing his jfai ak’falop that tastes like charcoal and he is paying for this? at least the wine is delicious. when the time for paying their bill comes, louis fumbles through his wallet but the waiter stares at the credit card (louis’ dad’s) in his fingers and anxiously, his eyes dart to harry.

“what’s going on?” louis wonders. “am i to pay somewhere else?”

“i… i already paid,” harry coughs, his eyes flickering between the waiter and louis.

“i can _afford_ to pay styles,” louis grinds his teeth.

“i—i know you can,” harry explains. he quickly scratches the back of his neck. “but this is, uh, not what i want you to spend money on.”

“excuse me?” asks louis narrowing his eyes at harry. the waiter quickly excuses himself, heading off to another table.

“i agreed to go on a date with you because i wanted to go on a date with you, not what you think i want a date to be like.”

“i don’t… i don’t get it.”

“butter?” he asks his finger drawing circles in the air. “this is not _your thing_ louis. i know that. you asked liam, or trisha, where i’d like to go and you went for it. if you wanted an opinion on what restaurants i liked, you could’ve simply asked me.”

“that defeats the purpose of taking you on a date!”

“but that’s not important,” he says shaking his head, “because i wanted to go on a date that you planned, not asked around.”

“so what are you saying?”

“you know that wherever you decide to go on a date; whether we go to fast food chains, cafes, or heck even your house, i’d gladly go because you planned for the date, from scratch,” he adds his gaze tense, “but going to butter is not you louis. that’s why i paid for it.”

“but this is your scene,” louis objects. “you can’t go to some dodgy restaurant, or a fast food chain on your first date. or heck, even starbucks.”

“i’d go to starbucks.”

“but it’s not your scene.”

“but i’d be with you.”

“i’m with you now, aren’t i? same difference.”

“i’d go anywhere with you, that’s already certain.” louis’ eyebrows raise in surprise. no, he most certainly did not know that. harry continues, “but the dates we’ve had before have all been fun because you were happy there, it was thoughtful of you, and… chill.” he sets his wine glass down, swallowing slowly as he searches for the right words in his head. “my previous dates, almost ninety per cent of them, have been tense; back straight, eat with a fork and knife, wine must definitely be there, jazz music playing in the back, white cloth on the table, waiters all around… but with you, i’ve felt comfortable. i didn’t have to prove to the world i am a styles, i can just me.”

“and by me bringing you here it brought all that back?”

“doesn’t matter,” harry waves his hand around dismissing the idea, “you were only trying to make me happy. but next time, pick a place you want not what you think i want.”

“next time?” louis asks hopeful. “you want a next time after this horrible date?”

“i whale you,” he simply replies. louis chuckles, a soft pink color spreading across his cheeks.

 

they both leave the restaurant, louis’ (borrowed) credit card untouched. in the (borrowed) car, harry checks the time – it is 8:01pm -  and he suggests that the night is still young and louis owes him a proper date. and a proper date louis gives. he drives to the closest amusement park in london from butter, and park liam’s car and walk, hand-in-hand, to the amusement park.

“wearing a suit to an amusement park?” asks harry. “first time for everything.”

“right?” louis chuckles. “which one do you want to try?”

“i’ve never been on any,” harry confesses. louis looks at him, frowning. “my parents never saw the need,” he shrugs.

“no one should grow up without going on a rollercoaster, or –”

“what’s a rollercoaster?” asks harry.

“that,” louis points up ahead. “c’mon.” he pulls harry forward and they make their way to the rollercoaster. this rollercoaster, is however, not the fast kind, but the slow kind. the one that circles slowly and at the top, stops for a few minutes so as to enjoy the night sky with the stars and the crescent moon.

waiting in line, harry’s eyes follow the movement of the rollercoaster slowly going in round in circles. it does not look safe, for sure, but when has louis ever been safe? reckless is one of the adjectives he describes louis without a doubt. it always seems he has a death wish. he laughs at himself. that escalated quickly!

it is their turn to enter the rollercoaster. he enters first, and louis slips in near him, their thighs pressed firmly together, and their feet dangling on nothingness below them. he makes the mistake of looking down between his toes, and a shiver runs down his spine.

why? why did he climb onto this piece of crap? his fingers turn white from gripping the handle too tightly. louis notices and threads their fingers together awaiting the rollercoaster to start. the ride is horrific and harry swears he will never go on a roller-coaster for the rest of his life. and his children’s lives. and his children’s children’s lives. and his children’s children’s children’s lives. the entire styles’ lineage will never go on rollercoasters for as long as they are alive.

next, louis takes him round the amusement park happily chatting about nothing much. harry has rolled his sleeves to his elbows and louis has rolled his skinny jeans up to his ankles to reveal his socks with the alien emojis on them. they have an amazing time, harry’s laughter rippling from him to louis and it feels so amazing. so amazing the clock flies through time and a few minutes to midnight, louis states that it is late and they should head back home. they find themselves ending their date, but before, louis takes a side trip to the supermarket which his mother has sent him to buy a few things.

“this is why housekeepers are needed,” harry groans following louis down the aisle. “they can get all these things for you.”

“you’ll never know the joy of walking into a supermarket and finding something you’ve been wanting for a long time,” louis tells him as they walk down aisle 17.

“like what?”

“toothpaste,” he answers him holding a tube of colgate toothpaste. he drops it in the basket and moves to aisle 21. louis is not done however. after the horrible date at butter, and the fantastic date (he presumes he can call it that based on harry’s wide smile, glitter eyes and pink cheeks) at the amusement park, he wants to end the night on a good note. what better way to ask harry to be his boyfriend! damned be the boys and girls at school, damned be anne, damned be the stupid london society that only loves harry for his last name.

but how? he wonders.

how is he supposed to ask _the_ harry styles to be his boyfriend? looking at him now, curiously glancing at the different cereal boxes, he has no clue on how to ask him to be his boyfriend. he cannot ruin this moment, he knows that well, he ruined their first date, he cannot ruin the first time he asks harry to be his.

“which one do you buy?” asks harry, pointing to the cereal boxes on the shelf..

“coco pops as always,” louis glees, taking a box off the shelf. “what else is on the list?”

“glue,” he reads from the list. “why would you need glue at this ungodly hour?”

“art project for daisy.”

his mind is raking itself with ways of asking harry to be his boyfriend but in all honesty, he is coming up empty. he could simply ask him, but that’s too basic, even for himself. he could make a huge show about it, but then harry might be put off by it (like he was during the dinner at butter). he could kiss him passionately and hope harry will get the message, rather the question. gazing at harry lips, he is tempted by the idea, really tempted, so tempted he does not hear what harry is asking him.

“sorry, what?”

“i asked where are the tomatoes kept?”

“oh, that way.” right then, the supermarket announces it is closing in ten minutes. and he gets an idea!

“hold this!” louis instructs harry handing him the basket with colgate toothpaste, petroleum jelly, coca cola, 2 dark chocolate bars, a dustpan, a sharpie pen, a bag of éclairs, and three boxes of coco pops.

“where are you going?” he asks louis. louis is on his heels running away from him to somewhere… somewhere he does not know and he is standing alone in the middle of a somewhat empty supermarket. his phone buzzes and he pockets it. it is liam.

 **LIAM:** How’s the date????

 **HARRY:** You told him to take me to Butter? WHY?!

 **LIAM:** You love that restaurant.

 **HARRY:** I loved it only because they have the best wine, other than that, I don’t like it.

 **LIAM:** I didn’t know.

 **HARRY:** It’s fine though.

 **LIAM:** Is it over?

 **HARRY:** Yeah, but we’re at the supermarket buying things before we go home.

 **LIAM:**??????

 **HARRY:** Shopping List he was meant to have done yesterday but forgot and his mom sent him a text reminding him to return with the stuff.

 **LIAM:** Colgate?

 **HARRY:** How did you know?

 **LIAM:** The Tomlinson’s are fond of Colgate. A little too much. You’d think the company PAID them to use their product, and market it!!

 **HARRY:** Creepy.

 **LIAM:** Did you enjoy yourself though?

 **HARRY:** I told him that I didn’t want to go on a date he thought I wanted.

 **LIAM:** Harsh.

 **HARRY:** It’s not. I don’t want him spending money on a date he thinks I want when all I wanted was to go on _his_ date, not _mine_.

 **HARRY:** Why does no one understand???!?!?!!!?

 **LIAM:** Maybe because we’ve all not got a “Louis” to spoil us.

 **HARRY:** You have Olivia.

 **LIAM:** She LOVES Butter. I think I’m going to end this relationship. It’s straining.

 **HARRY:** Straining how?

 **LIAM:** She’s too demanding. Always wanting me to drive her places… so EXHAUSTING!

 **HARRY:** I told you she was but you didn’t want to listen to me.

 **LIAM:** And then Niall gets her before I do? I DON’T THINK SO!

 **HARRY:** I don’t know why you bother competing with Niall for girls because Taylor will always be the girl for Niall. And you hate Taylor.

 **LIAM:** loathe*

 **HARRY:** Harsh!

 **LIAM:** What are you doing now? Snogging?

 **HARRY:** -____-

 **HARRY:** He went off somewhere, I don’t know where.

 **LIAM:**??????

 **HARRY:** I don’t know. I’ve never been stuck in a supermarket, no idea what to do.

 **LIAM:** Pretend you’re buying something.

 **HARRY:** Like what?

 **LIAM:** Anything. Check your aisle, what is there?

 **HARRY:** TAMPONS!!!!!!

 **HARRY:** KILL ME NOW PLEASE!!

 **LIAM:** Turn around!

 **HARRY:** PADS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **HARRY:** KILL ME PLEASE LIAM! THIS IS MORTIFYNG.

 **LIAM:** Maybe McKenzie will need them. Soon.

 **HARRY:** Her period came last week.

 **LIAM:** EW! Why do you know this?

 **HARRY:** Because she told me? Because we live together? Because I’m not a jerk? I don’t know?

 **LIAM:** Whatever! Go on another aisle then!

 **HARRY:** I’m in the rice aisle. So much rice in one place.

 **LIAM:** Of all the aisles to pick you went to the rice aisle?! LOL

 **HARRY:** You told me pick any other aisle and this is the closest one to the pads aisle. Do you think Louis will want rice?

 **LIAM:** I don’t know. All Johannah cooks is pasta to be honest. It would be a change.

 **HARRY:** I never knew there were 295390 ways of cooking pasta.

 **LIAM:** Right? Just when you think pasta cannot be cooked in another way, she whips up a new meal!!

 **HARRY:** CRAP!

 **HARRY:** SHIT SHIT SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

 **HARRY:** THIS ISN’T HAPPENING!!!

 **LIAM:** What? What’s happening?!

 **HARRY:** Louis spoke through the supermarket intercom.

 **LIAM:** LOL WHAT IS HE SAYING?

 **HARRY:** He’s asking me to be his boyfriend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **LIAM:** WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

 **LIAM:** HARRY!!

 **LIAM:** REPLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

 

 

louis is still speaking through the intercom, apologizing for the horrible dinner at butter but harry is not listening. he is… shocked. shell shocked. slightly embarrassed because the few people in the supermarket are staring at him. louis did a perfect description of what he is wearing hence the looks from people.

another part of him however listens to louis and his endless apologies. his eyes then pop out of his body when he sees louis walking towards him, the intercom still speaking through the supermarket speakers.

“how—but you’re—is this—louis!” he exclaims, too stunned for words.

“follow me,” louis winks at him. they stop in front of large bananas, harry’s favourite fruit, and louis using the sharpie pen from the basket, writes something that harry cannot see, too busy listening to the list of things that louis loves about him.

grinning from ear to ear, louis holds up the bundle of bananas with the word “boyfriend?” spread across each individual banana, the “nd?” written below due to not enough bananas. harry’s eyes glaze across the question on the bananas, his mouth hanging open, and the words on the supermarket speakers silent. he raises his gaze to louis’ eyes who is still grinning.

he ducks his head and presses his lips to louis. he feels the bananas poking his chest as he presses his body to louis but he does not care. he does not care about the stupid rumors going around school that he might be dating louis. he does not care that it is louis he walked with up the stairs at te debutant ball. he does not care that the malfoy family are coming in september all because he picked louis as his escort.

he. does. not. care.

why? because everyone did not care for him when louis did. louis has cared for him wholly these past seven months which is saying a lot since most of his friends have been there for nearly his whole life. surrounded by plastic cards, shiny jewels, fast cars, glasses of wine and champagne, and super rich kids, louis is the only one who has loved.

and isn’t that what we all want, he wonders, real love and compassion?

“well?” asks louis, breaking their kiss.

“of course,” harry chuckles at having taken this long to respond. “of course i’ll be your boyfriend.” louis wraps his arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly, the bundle of bananas hanging from his right-hand fingers. “how did you do it?” asks harry, still in louis’ embrace. “how did you get to speak through the supermarket speakers?”

“my secrets i’ll never tell,” louis whispers back in his ear. he breaks their embrace, both of their cheeks flushed, moreso louis’ than harry. louis has not stopped grinning, and he does not stop grinning when he drives through the pearly gates of harry’s mansion, nor when he parks his (liam’s) car outside the mansion, and most definitely not when they are at the front of the large green door.

“i know this wasn’t an ideal date,” louis mutters, his grin still plastered on his face harry thinks his lips will crack any moment, “and it could’ve been better. but i couldn’t live with myself if i… i didn’t ask you to be my boyfriend.”

“well rumors at school this week all thought we were dating, i’m kind of glad those rumors are now true,” harry beams. “but tell me, i’m curious, how did you do it? how did you manage to speak though the supermarket intercom?”

“sleep well tonight.”

harry rolls his eyes at louis’ ignoring his pleas. “fine,” he raises his hands in defeat, “fine i won’t ask again. but i loved it, every single minute, apart from the awkward stares.”

“you’re handsome,” louis winks, grinning like a cheshire cat. he tiptoes on his vans and softly presses his lips to harry’s. harry wraps his hands around louis’ neck, his thumb feeling louis’ rapid pulse. he firmly presses his lips, the pulse bumping faster against his thumb.

“i’ll see you tomorrow in economics?” asks harry. louis nods. “i whale you.”

“i whale you, too.”

 

**=     =     =     =**

** **

**TRISHA:** I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DID IT! YOU ACTUALLY ASKED HARRY STYLES TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **TRISHA:** /THE/ LOUIS IS DATING THE HARRY STYLES!!!!

 **TRISHA:** TIMES ARE CHANGING! WATCH THIS SPACE!!

 **LOUIS:** You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.

 **LOUIS:** P.S. Fizzy is asking for the Marie Claire magazine.

 **TRISHA:** i’ll bring it tomorrow.

 **TRISHA:** HOW DID YOU DO IT?

 **LOUIS:** Do what?

 **TRISHA:** What do you mean do what? ASK HIM TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND!!

 **LOUIS:** Well, the date at Butter was a horrible idea and that’s the last time I’m asking you and Payno for advice. He hated it, the entire thing!

 **TRISHA:** But Harry loves Butter!

 **LOUIS:** NOT ASKING YOU FOR ADVICE AGAIN!

 **TRISHA:** Then what happened?

 **LOUIS:** I took him to the amusement park. But I couldn’t go home without ending the night well so I decided at that moment that we were going to be dating. We were at the supermarket and I told him to wait there.

 **LOUIS:** I quickly walked away from him, took out my phone and started recording a messgage saying all the things I love about him. It wasn’t that long because well, I didn’t want the people at the supermarket to find my phone and get me in trouble.

 **TRISHA:** YOU’RE NUTS!

 **LOUIS:** So I turned on the intercom and started playing my recording. I then went looking for him as my voice was playing through the speakers. I got another idea just then.

 **TRISHA:** OH NO LOUIS!

 **LOUIS:** Harry loves bananas like crazy, right?

 **TRISHA:** Everybody knows that.

 **LOUIS:** So on each banana I wrote the letters: B O Y F R I E N D ?

 **LOUIS:** And he said yes.

 **TRISHA:** :O :O :O :O :O :O

 **TRISHA:** REALLY?

 **TRISHA:** THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED?

 **TRISHA:** IT’S ACTUALLY A SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET IDEA! CRAP! IT’S AMAZING!! NOW I WNAT A LOVE STORY LIKE THIS.

 **LOUIS:** You’re so dramatic.

 **TRISHA:** Then what happened?

 **LOUIS:** Then I dropped him off at his mansion, then went back home.

 **TRISHA:** Did he recognize the car ?

 **LOUIS:** No. I don’t think so. If he did then he would’ve said something but I don’t know anymore. He was disappointed the entire time we were at Butter, actually from the moment I told him we were GOING to Butter.

 **LOUIS:** I should’ve seen the signs.

 **TRISHA:** DOESN’T MATTER!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **TRISHA:** HE LOVED THE QUESTION!

 **TRISHA:** HE LOVED THE BANANAS!!

 **TRISHA:** AND THE RECORDING AND EVERYTHING!!!

 **LOUIS:** How do you know that?! You weren’t there.

 **TRISHA:** Payno’s telling us.

 **LOUIS:** Us? Who is US?

 **TRISHA:** On the WhatsEpp group with me, Liam, Gigi and Zayn.

 **LOUIS:** AND YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT MY DATE?!

 **TRISHA:** Well, duh! Everybody tomorrow at school will want to know HOW their favourite boy is off the market, thanks to *dramatic pause* Louis WILLIAM TOMLINSON!

 **LOUIS:** Don’t call me that. Honestly, Lottie should’ve never told you my middle name -…-

 **TRISHA:** SHE SHOULD HAVE! SHE LOVED TO WATCH YOU SQUIRM… WILLIAM

 **LOUIS:** STOP! Or i won’t tell you more.

 **LOUIS:** Tell*

 **TRISHA:** There’s more ????

 **LOUIS:** During the dinner, I kept thinking about what everyone has been telling me that Harry and I are different. We’re very different people like bloodlines, bank accounts, upbringing, all those things. And people in school make sure I never forget.

 **TRISHA:** And why does it bother you?

 **TRISHA:** Is Harry bothered you’re not from a rich family? An influential family in all of the country? Does he care that the name Tomlinson means nothing to him? Does he care that you live in one of the not-so-rich neighbourhoods in London? Does he care you take the Underground to school?

 **TRISHA:** Does he care that you prefer video games over diamonds? That you’d rather spend your entire afternoons skateboarding than sipping champagne talking about what islands you’ll be spending in the summer?

 **LOUIS:** I GET IT !

 **TRISHA:** No you don’t! You always put yourself down ever since Harry’s mom talked to you when she randomly came to your house.

 **TRISHA:** STOP LISTENING TO THEM, just like Harry stopped caring about them.

 **LOUIS:** Did you read the papers ? They were all wondering why Harry did not take Taylor to the Ball!

 **TRISHA:** Harry DOES NOT CARE Lou! He cares about YOU! & I hope you realize this before it’s too late.

 **TRISHA:** We made it, Loubear. We made it into their world.

 **LOUIS:** How exactly do you plan on taking Taylor down and being the school’s Queen B?

 **TRISHA:** One step at a time, boo boo ;]

 **LOUIS:** That’s worse than William BTW.

 **TRISHA:** So what happens tomorrow at school?

 **LOUIS:** SHITSTORM!

 **TRISHA:** Everybody knows about you and Harry dating.

 **LOUIS:** It’s literally been two hours, how does everyone know?

 **TRISHA:** Gossip travels fast, you know that. Even Niall knows, and he’s furious. Taylor seems nonchalant but obviously she’s pissed off. Payno loves it, he’s literally telling everyone. Have you seen his Snapchat?

 **LOUIS:** No. What is it?

 **TRISHA:** He’s basically playing love songs with your names all over his Snapchat. I love the one where he has written “LARRY” with lots of love hearts and “All of Me” by John Legend is playing.

 **LOUIS:** *facepalms*

 **TRISHA:** It’s adorable! Then there is another with a photo of you two and a big red heart drawn with “As Long As You Love Me” playing.

 **LOUIS:** This is embarrassing.

 **TRISHA:** Many people are doing this. Gigi has a photo of Harry written “OFF LIMITS” at the bottom with “The One That Got Away” playing in the back.

 **LOUIS:** Jeez ! Isn’t she taken ?

 **TRISHA:** You forget this is HARRY we’re talking about. Everybody WANTS Harry, regardless of if he is single or taken ;].

 **LOUIS:** What else are people talking about ?

 **TRISHA:** Most people are happy but we know the happiness will die down they they realize you two have been dating for a week.

 **LOUIS:** What do you mean ?

 **TRISHA:** People are placing bets on how long you two shall be dating.

 **LOUIS:** WTF !

 **TRISHA:** Harry hasn’t been off OFF the market in 6 years, so it’s a BIG DEAL that YOU happened to bag him. The last time he was single was two years ago, which was for only a month.

 **LOUIS:** You haven’t posted anything on Snapchat right ? *worried look*

 **TRISHA:** AHAHAHAHAH YOU THOUGHT !

 **LOUIS:** You didn’t put some stupid sappy song ?

 **TRISHA:** You mean  “Boyfriend” by Justin Bieber ?

 **LOUIS:** YES ! THAT !

 **TRISHA:** Oops.

 **TRISHA:** c’mon that is actually funny.

 **LOUIS:** A little.

 **TRISHA:** I put a photo of you two when you were on the rooftop on Sunday at the Ball and “Unconditionally” was playing.

 **LOUIS:** Who sang that song?

 **TRISHA:** Katy Perry. How don’t you know???

 **TRISHA:** Payno’s posted another!

 **LOUIS:** What is it?

 **TRISHA:** “Knocks you down” by Keri Hilson with you two at the Ball. I think everyone is now putting photos of you two dancing to Walk The Moon at the Ball.

 **LOUIS:** How were people taking photos of us at the rooftop ? It was pretty dark.

 **TRISHA:** Did you know flashing cameras exist on phones? DID YOU KNOW?!

 **LOUIS:** *MIDDLE FINGER*

 **TRISHA:** *PECKS YOUR CHEEK* aw Willy William.

 **LOUIS:** *BOTH MIDDLE FINGERS*

 **TRISHA:** Taylor’s joined in. She has a photo of you and the song “Gives You Hell” with the words: “Hope HE gives you hell!”

 **TRISHA:** Someone’s jealous.  

 **LOUIS:** When is she never?

 **TRISHA:** Don’t worry about tomorrow, all will be fine. As long as you’re both happy right?

 **LOUIS:** Because that’s what matters?

 **TRISHA:** YES!

 **LOUIS:** We’ll see.


	56. 0.55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the school is divided into camp haylor and camp larry! larry try make their relationship stronger while taylor takes a break from school to visit someone from louis' past...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was essentially 2 chapters but i've put it into 1 because really, why not? it's not THAT long but LONG enough [=
> 
> enjoy ☺

> **i was basically a pawn in their game and nobody bothered to tell me.**

 

the school – a week after harry and louis have been officially dating, now larry stylinson –breaks into two camps: camp larry and camp haylor.

camp larry are those who ship larry, and are all rooting for it. those in the camp are harry’s somewhat good friends such as mckenzie, gigi, liam, and all of louis’ friends which include the entire football team (apart from niall). the camp haylor is split into many different groups: those that are still shipping haylor together (led by taylor herself, duh), those who loathe larry with a passion (niall, duh), those who are jealous that louis could bag harry while they could not get him to even blink their way, and many other groups that settle for being labelled camp haylor.

of course, there are those who simply do not care, such as zayn and cathy.

the camp haylor had predicted that larry stylinson would only last two weeks, three tops, before they broke up and harry is once again in the market for dating (insert: cheery girls, and a few boys, in the background).

now that the two weeks are up, taylor is getting agitated and niall is doing everything he can in getting the two to break up.  he had started on his plan the moment news spread that larry was official.

he begins by making sure that larry stylinson share no classes – not even p.e!

“your plan is working,” taylor says one tuesday mid-morning during the first break of school. “who knew you’d pull of something like this.”

“never underestimate the horan influence,” niall winks.

“how though?” she inquires, brushing her hand up niall’s arm. “bribery?”

“tch! no. that involves too much money that i’d rather spend on an aston martin.”

“so, then what? how did you manage to make harry and tomlinson not have any class together?”

“remember last year when zayn was really into it, always spending his time in that stupid it club and never having time for us?” niall asks and taylor remembers. it was all niall kept complaining about. “zayn learned how to hack into the school system and be able to change timetables, grades, switch teachers, the lot! so that’s what i’ve done!”

“can you get him _out_ of class?” taylor wonders.

“nah,” he shakes his head, “louis would have to be suspended to be removed out of certain classes. or expelled,” he adds, shrugging.

“do you think it will work?”

“of course. if they spend less time together, they’ll never have enough time for each other and they will break up.”

taylor then walks off, trusting niall with breaking up larry stylinson. sure enough, for a whole week, louis and harry have not been meeting as often as they would like. monday, louis has been swamped by school work so much so he could not meet up with his boyfriend for their monday facemasks.

tuesday, there is an impromptu football practice at lunch, and after school, lasting until seven-thirty at night.

on wednesday, they try meeting for their history class, that they share, but as it turns out, harry has been transferred to a different class. not only the history class but also physics, maths, economics, and art.

thursday, harry wanted to find more information about the malfoy family from taylor and she made sure to drag her story to fit the whole of lunch, and after school that harry postponed the plans that louis had earlier suggested they.

friday they did not bother meeting up, something, as always, came up.

the weekend? dr styles was in town until monday morning when he is to flying back to canada. when he is dragging is boots against the ceramics to his locker, he is surprised to see louis leaning against this locker with a grin on his face. he immediately lights up, and wraps his arms around him, kissing him senseless.

“i missed you,” he breathes, leaning his forehead on louis. “honest.”

“it’s insane that our schedules are clashing always.” he leans off the locker to let harry punch in his passcode (2412) and open it. “we barely see each other. do you think camp haylor has something to do with it?”

“camp haylor?” asks harry, his gaze flickering to louis on his left before taking out his two english readings of charles bukowski poems,  _fire station_ and _maybe tomorrow_ , not forgetting his blue gdc. funny story, louis has a green one.

“how is it that your english class is still on _fire station_?” wonders louis.

harry nods. “mrs maths always asks josh to read a stanza, then she goes on and on and on about bukowski’s controversial life, then he reads the next one then,” he punctuates his sentence with a sigh, “we’ve basically been on _fire station_ for the last two weeks. hopefully today we start _maybe tomorrow_. what poem are you on?”

“ _you get so alone at times that it just makes sense_.”

“whoa! that’s far ahead.”

“that’s not even half of it. our teacher says we should read three of bukowski’s poems because they might come in the surprise quiz that he gives us each week.”

“surprise quiz?” gawks harry, combing through his hair. louis nods up at him. “so what were you saying about camp haylor?”

 

**=     =     =     =**

nobody, absolutely nobody, puts taylor in a corner.

everybody knows that. yet somehow, people forget and taylor does not mind reminding everyone exactly who she is. especially bloody harry styles.

she knocks twice on the large door on primrose hill and waits for _her_ to open the door.

while being the head of camp haylor, she had thought, nay she had known that larry stylinson would only last two weeks, three weeks tops. however, it has been 22 days and larry is going strong. but she is not bothered. she never is. she knows her baby, aka harry styles, will come back to him. louis is just a distraction – like vanessa had been for harry last year.

she had carelessly thought she can rely on niall to break up larry stylinson but he is too foolish, too incompetent,too in love with her. she better take matters into her own hands. that is what her dear daddy taught her to never put your fate in someone else’s hands.

she takes a slow breath as the door opens. a tall, slim girl with shoulder-length brown hair in a yellow jumpsuit stands with her slender arms on the door knob. a grin spreads on her lips.

“hello, may i help you?”

taylor plasters her fake smile reserved for strangers. or people she wants something from. “yes, you may. my name is taylor,” she extends her hand, “waldorf and you must be eleanor calder?”

eleanor shakes her hand for three seconds then lets go. “this is she,” she says wearily. “have… have we met before?”

“i’m a friend of louis tomlinson, and also a fan of your blog _the trend pear_.”

she instantly glows. “thank you, taylor. yes, louis is my friend. do you want to come in for tea?”

“please,” she nods smiling. so far, so good, she thinks.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

louis shuts the bedroom as quiet as he possibly can and tiptoes on his socks to harry sleeping soundly in white sheets and pillows.

it is not unsual for harry to skip a day of school, or three, and therefore nobody ever gets alarmed when he does not show up. heck, he would skip school for two weeks and everybody would act like nothing is wrong.  this has happened before anyhow. however, this time it is different. louis and harry are dating and therefore he cares about the welfare of his boyfriend – and why he has skipping school for three whole days.

liam had assured louis that everything is fine. harry probably facetimed his father and he needed to be away for a few days, liam had said. he’ll be here on monday, he added. louis stomped his foot and told liam that he should at least _act_ like he cares about one of his closest friends. liam simply rolled his eyes and muttered, “monday!”

louis lifts the covers, slips inside the bed and throws his arm around harry’s shirtless waist. he softly kisses the back of his neck and he sleeps along with his boyfriend this friday sunny afternoon.

 

 

 

harry jolts awake to a warm body pressed to his stomach. he flutters his eyes open to see louis quetily snoring his arms spread above his head on the pillow. his cheeks color, _he gets to call louis his_. his eyes droop down to the silent subtle growing along louis’ jawline, and the tanned skin glowing from the early night sky. he reaches for his phone and quickly snaps a photo of sleeping louis. or eight before he feels he is being a creeper. he lifts his body onto his elbow and using his thumb he pulls down on louis’ chin.

he locks his lips between louis delicious lips which instantly react to a foreign feeling. harry shuts his eyes and wills louis’ lips to move against his. they do. their lips still locked, harry shifts on his bed hovering above louis now and holding his face with his large hands.

“hey,” louis greets, his lips slightly red.

still straddling louis, harry beams, “hey!”

“if i recall you have a thousand shirts in your closet, how about wearing one?” suggests louis his eyes dragging down harry’s toned chest. louis gulps when harry’s v-lines call for him, wanting to be trailed with his finger. or tongue.

“my eyes are up here,” harry cuts through his moment.

“funny,” he says dryly.

“how did you get here?”

“i took the bus,” louis tells him and his boyfriend visibly shudders, “then the underground. then walked here. i almost lost my coins in the bus.”

“instead of counting coins, why don’t you buy that metro card that normal people use?” harry accidentaly shifts on top of his boyfriend and louis moans, a little louder than he would have wanted. harry catches on and a cross between a laugh and a smirk spreads on his lips. he wriggles his butt down louis body and presses down on louis’ crotch area.

“i know what you’re doing,” mutters louis lowly. he gulps. his chest is moving up and down at a slightly higher rate than normal and his arms pinned down above his head by harry’s bulging arms.

“what exactly?” harry teases. louis stifles his moan but not his body jerking against harry’s butt. “cause i’m not doing anything.”

“are you going to sit and do nothing?”

“depends,” harry feigns boredom.

“on what?” louis breathes. harry leans his shirtless body down and brushes his lips on louis’ ear. he whipsers something naughty and his hips jerk involuntary. “yes, please!” harry towers above louis head, shifting his legs to a more comfortable position. “hands only.”

harry pouts. “why?”

louis’ mind is fuzzy, his brain going round in circles, his dick sweating between his pants yet somehow his mouth speaks opposite of what he would like harry to do to him. “why didn’t you come to school?”

and just like that, they both hit flatline.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

thankfully for louis’ sake, they both have moved on from the mood-killer question but louis still wants to know what is wrong, what made his boyfriend miss school for three days. one of the styles’ chef cooks a delicious oriental dinner for them both and a expensive wine to boot and complement the meal with a mouth-watering aroma.

placing his white napkin onto his lap, harry’s eyes take a short swipe of the food on his white plate and he immediately digs his fork into the french beans.

“what happened in school?” harry asks, breaking the thick tension between them. while he does not mind that louis did not want him to make him feel good earlier, he does not want to talk about why he has not been in school. yet he is bubbling to let it all out, talk to someone about it.

“liam and niall are fighting over the new girl in school…  i think her name is dana,” louis replies chewing on his sizzling chicken. “the sad part is that she is interested in nate, not niall or liam.”

“niall might win.”

“liam won last time with barbara,” louis points out.

“liam could get her into victoria’s secrets.”

“rumors going round that zayn and gigi have broken up,” he continues chewing his dinner. “well, i was there when she said it outloud,” louis corrects and harry gives him a look. “it’s a long story but i didn’t think she was serious.”

“they’ll be back together.” harry drinks his wine. “it’s not the first time.”

“he got suspended.”

“why?”

“for hacking into student accounts on the school system.”

harry’s fork with chicken on the ends stops mid-way to his mouth. “is he the one who hacked into our accounts changing our timetables?”

louis shrugs with his cheeks bloated. he swallows a bit before speaking, “i don’t know but he’s amongt the top ten hackers of our school. though i think he’s being framed, not that it matters because he has done this before.”

“probably framed by taylor to agree on being suspended,” harry munches the food on his fork. “wouldn’t be the first time. did you know he gave me lady marie-antoinette?” louis gawks. “he can’t take care of it what with his father being unemployed, and his sisters are almost getting kicked out of school because of lack of fees.”

“oh no!”

“but it’s the maliks. they always find their way after bankrupcy.”

louis frowns, with his fork ghosting his lips. “it’s not the first time the family is broke?”

“poor,” harry corrects absentmindedly. his fork is toying with his french beans, the other holding his glass of wine. “no, it’s not the first time. this is the fourth time actually.”

“where’s mckenzie?” louis abruptly asks. “she always seems to make sure to let me know that liverpool did not make it to the champions league qualifiers for the next season in september.”

“all i heard in that sentence was mckenzie,” harry drawls. he puts his glass down on the table and asks, “where’s taylor?”

louis mometarily frowns at him before his eyebrows knit and his eyes gaze up at the shiny, bright chandelier that lightens the white walls even more. “i… i don’t know actually. she’s also been missing school but that was since yesterday. and today. why?” he asks more accusing than he intends.

harry senses the accusation. he sits upright in his white chair. “it’s not what you think. it’s just odd how she hasn’t been in school. whenever she does, something off happens and i’m wondering what she’s up to this time.” he plays with the three french beans on his otherwise empty, white plate. “she could find something to break us up.”

louis sighs, swallowing his wine. he reaches for harry’s hand on the table and holds it. “she won’t. for months we’ve been together more than people have liked and we weren’t even together but people were so bothered by us simply being friends. it’s going to be much worse but this time, we’re together. we’re stronger together and as long as i have you by my side, for as long as you want, we’ll get through everything together.”

“i want you,” harry blurts out.

louis swoons. “me too.”

 

 

 

the couple make their way to harry’s home cinema by 9:34pm. louis is fighting with his eyelids to not close while harry has never felt more awake! he has been sleeping in for three days after all.

“what are we watching tonight?”

“ _burlesque_ ,” he says slowly reading the back of the dvd box. “you up for it?”

“harry, you’ve been stalling all night.” louis has done enough waiting. “tell me what’s wrong?”

“i… i don’t know how to put it,” harry says quietly. he lays his head on louis shoulders, the doncaster boy wrapping his arms around harry protectively. he plants his lips on the space behind harry’s ear, lingering for a few seconds. harry inhales deeply, his green eyes fluttering shut. he threads his fingers with louis as he opens his eyes to look at the gigantic screen in front of them.

“my dad came on wednesday.” louis squeezes his hand. “he basically threw me and gemma out of the family company. wednesday afternoon he had han emergency meeting with the board and our names were removed… and niall’s was added to the company.” he breathes out through his nose. “that means that when i graduate university or when gemma,” he clears his throat, “we will have nothing to call our own. we’ll be like basic brits.”

louis presses his lips to harry’s temple. “why niall?”

“my father basically wishes niall is the son he’ll never have. a day never passes by when he reminds me this, everytime.”

louis wraps both their arms around harry’s middle and cuddling him tighter, hoping the exhaustion in his voice shall leave his boyfriend’s mind and body.

harry continues as he shuts his eyes. “he also threw out my grandmother out of the company and who knows where she is right now. apparently, the police can’t track her down. her phone was last located in wiltshire.”

“strange.”

“daddy taylor is in court facing far too many charges i can’t be bothered to know but his lawyer licence has been suspended pending investigations by the police. my father’s lawyers are making sure that daddy taylor will never practice law again but we all know that people out there will come up and defend daddy taylor.”

“why?”

“in this world, just like you have many enemies, you have many people you can manipulate to vouch for you when you’re in trouble.”

“last week sunday after the ball, my mother and i had a long talk about the malfoy family, what will happen to us now that we know my grandmother basically was stealing from us…” he sits upright nad twists his body so that he is gazing at his boyfriend on the same eye-level. “you smell like lemons.”

louis has a small smile on his lips and pink cheeks. “thanks.”

harry briefly smiles before ducking his head down and staring at their intertwined fingers on his lap. “i basically found out that daddy taylor made a deal with my grandmother that involved me dating taylor… sort of like a business deal.” he whips out courage within himself and gazes at louis’ frowning eyes. “taylor knew about it, my father knew, my mother, niall… basically everyone knew apart from _me_. for six years, taylor’s family used me just for some stupid deal that my grandmother and daddy taylor made in the 1990s. i was basically a pawn in their game and nobody bothered to tell me.”

louis flings his arms out at harry, pulling close to his body and squeezing tightly. he knows harry does not cry much and it is those moments he wishes harry would. a crying harry is easier to deal with than a numb harry. harry finally, wraps his arms around louis, his nose buried in louis’ neck.

“i’m sorry—,” he whispers quietly.

“you have nothing to—”

“—i never told you,” harry interjects, “i didn’t want to bother you.”

louis immediately lets go, harry blinking in confusion. louis cups his warm cheeks, gazing at him with a concerned look. “nothing, and i repeat nothing, you say or do shall ever be bothering me.” harry’s eyes fall down to his lap. “harry listen to me.”

harry’s mouth curls down, his brown hair covering his face. louis swipes the hair back but harry stubbornly keeps his head ducked down. louis slightly cranes his neck so that he can see harry. crystal droplets fall on his cheeks sliding down from harry’s face.

“harry,” he calls his name softly. harry shakes him off, startled at the sudden action from his boyfriend. harry gets off the floor-couch and runs out of the home cinema room, louis trailing behind. harry climbs two flights of stairs, makes a left turn, then a right and barges into his bedroom. louis walks in seconds later, growing frantic at harry’s… jumbling actions.

he emerges from his bathroom, holding a sapphire ring between his thumb and index finger. he drops it in louis’ hand. louis gazes at harry, with a  questioning look. he tries his best to ignore his harry’s tear-stained cheeks but really how can you?

“the ring,” he chokes out, “the ring was meant to seal the business deal between my grandmother and daddy taylor when i proposed to her on graduation day.” harry’s eyes are glistening with tears louis wonders if he can see anything beyond his nose. “the debt that my grandmother owed the waldorf’s would’ve been paid if…,” he shuts his eyes and his cheeks glitter in the fluorescent light, “i would’ve been a business pawn. that’s it. that’s all i meant to everyone for six years. six,” he growls out.

louis once again, engulfs him in a bone-crushing hug. he does not care if his cheeks are wet, or that harry’s nails are digging into the skin on his back, he just wants to not see his boyfriend weep for something that is long forgotten. or almost forgotten, he corrects himself.

a few minutes them holding onto each other, they let go, harry’s tears subdued but his cheeks still wet. with his thumb, louis wipes the wet stains below his eyelashes, his cheeks and around his mouth and kisses those spots softly with his pink lips.

“i forgot to ask,” he suddenly remembers, “are you sleeping over?”

“of course silly,” louis beams up at him. he tucks harry’s hair behind his ear and his face glowing and louis’ wonders how he gets more handsome each day. and that he gets to _date_ him. he tiptoes on his feet and locks his lips with harry’s. it is soft and sensual, assuring harry that what they are is definitely not a business deal, but real.

“now c’mon, _burlesque_ isn’t going to watch itself,” louis jokes, pulling him by his hand.

harry steals a peck from louis’ delicious lips. “m’kay.”

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

“… and that’s why nate and i can never date,” trisha concludes swallowing her strawberry.

trisha had trampled in when harry had been getting ready for breakfast. perfect timing, harry chuckled then. she is furious that harry did not bother to tell her where he had been for three days. three days! and don’t forget the punch he gets from her. a girl can really punch, harry thinks. he briefly tells her why he had not been missing _per se_ (missing out parts such as he was not ready to share such as niall is part of the board meeting of the styles’ company now) and that louis is upstairs still in bed.

at 10:48 in the morning.

harry pops a strawberry into his mouth. “but he’d be the perfect boyfriend if you ever want to be queen.”

“i’ve got niall,” trisha points out.

“taylor has niall,” harry corrects in his infamous bored voice. “you should know that by now.”

“taylor’s the end goal for him, not for the short run which is where i am at.” she sits upright on her seat, adrenaline running through her veins. “right now, i have melissa, dana, briana and stefanie as minions; i have a sleek bentely that niall bought for me for my birthday in june; i’ve got a sort of boyfriend with niall…” she suddenly gasps, gripping harry’s hand. “i went to the debutant ball with nathanial archibald and my bestfriend is harry styles.” she sits back in her chair, amusement evident on her face. “i’m rising so fast.”

harry lightly chuckles. “glad i could help.”

“but i don’t know if i can be queen,” trisha says worriedly. “i’m just trisha cappelletti, a nobody from donny.”

“listen trisha, i’m going to be honest with you,” harry puts his coffee cup down on its saucer, “and because you’re my bestfriend,” they both chuckle as if sharing an inside joke, “and i care about you.”

she narrows her eyes at him. “what is it?”

“if you want to be the queen of the school, if you want everything of this world, the platinums, the cars and the power, you have to know if all of this,” his eyes quickly glance up at the chandelier above the breakfast table then back at her eyes, “is worth it?”

“yes,” she answers, mesmerized by the chandelier above them.

“it’s not that simple. you’re going to lie, steal, lose respect of your family and friends, at the same time earning respect from the wrong people, lose yourself trying to get power, control and influence—”

“i know you’re saying this with love but here’s what i think,” she breathes out deeply, “i think that…” she shakes her head then levels harry with a look. “i’m not you harry.” harry narrows his eyes. “i’m stronger and more tactful than you. my family is a nobody and therefore i cannot be used as a puppet in the industry like you, olivia, mckenzie, niall, and lately zayn, all are. i mean zayn has practically been outed from your clique all because he is a nobody—”

“he’s not officially outed.”

“look at you! look how you talk about your friends, friends you grew up with—”

“you don’t have friends in this world, just people you can manipulate,” he says dryly, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“but it’s _zayn_ ,” she stresses, “zayn’s never done as much harm as the rest of you, mainly taylor and niall. if one of them was outed then all of you would do anything to help them, forgetting everything they ever did to you.”

“and one other thing, don’t get emotionally involved,” harry warns. “it’ll hurt you in the end, badly. and trust me, family really is all you’ve got in the end, whether blood or not.”

“i’ve got you, louis, and liam. i’ll be fine.”

“don’t hurt louis,” harry cautions, his tone low. trisha frowns at him, murmuring, ‘what do you mean?’ then munching on strawberries. “in your ambition in trying to be like taylor, being the queen of the school, don’t get louis involved. do not manipulate him to be queen. he’s… he’s one of the good guys and you can’t hurt him. promise me this trisha, no matter what, no matter the cost, don’t get him involved.”

“i’d never hurt him harry,” she says, offended harry would think lowly of her. “he’s my bestfriend.”

“good,” he smiles behind his coffee cup. he takes a sip from it. “good.”

“if you were in my shoes and i in yours, would it be worth it?” she tentatively asks. “fighting for power, money and the glory?”

“no,” he answers truthfully, surprising himself at his honesty. “it’s not worth it; all the money in the world can’t buy you friends and family. you’re alone more times than you’re with people, you’re drunk more times than you are sober all because you’re trying to forget the horrible things you’ve done and secrets you’re hiding from—”

“like inking barbara’s skin and sending her away?” she wriggles her eyebrows at him.

“she deserved it,” he says firmly.

“well i think it’s worth it, i get to be somebody,” she says with hope in her voice and a big grin on her glossy lips. “i can make a name for myself, my life… my future.”

harry says nothing, occupying his mouth by drinking coffee. truly, he cannot relate because his future is set and his life as well. it is all planned and therefore he has nothing to build – apart from the styles’ name across england, and the united kingdom.

louis walks in just then, rubbing his eyes and shuffling his feet to the breakfast table. he leans down placing a kiss on harry’s heart-shaped lips and giving trisha a humongous hug.

“strawberries for breakfast?” louis questions at the red bowl of strawberries in the centre of the table. “i didn’t know we were all on a diet.”

harry rolls his eyes and trisha punches him in the arm. “we decided to for breakfast at this café that harry thinks is the best in england.

“let me guess, pawpaw café?” asks louis and trisha nods. “great.”

“you’ve been?” trisha wonders. harry hands louis his half-empty coffee and he takes a sip, loving the taste of coffee bright and early. or, at 11 o’clock.

“never,” louis shakes his head. “when did it get so late? and when did you come?”

“at 9 o’clock,” harry pops a strawberry into his mouth. “can you believe it?”

“why?”

“well chuck bass had a party and mckenzie was there too. she ws passing by to pick up her clothes for the weekend and she dropped me here.” she turns to harry, “she says hello, b.t.w.”

“we’re still going to pawpaw right?” he asks and continues speaking before either of them reply. “i’m starving.”

“have you showered?” she asks.

“i just woke up!” he stresses sipping the last drop of harry’s coffee.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

“these muffins are delicious!” louis swoons.

having brunch (it is too late for breakfast) at pawpaw café,  trisha and harry order lunch-like delicious meals, specifically baguette sandwiches for harry and rice salad for trisha,  while louis insists on a breakfast-like meal that has lots of sugar and honey. trisha scolds him and harry simply rolls his eyes and takes out his phone. he snaps a few shots of his food, then stands up from his seat, taking all three plates (and glasses) of their meal for snapchat, facebook, and instagram, and sits back down.

“how many views do you normally have?” trisha asks.

“i generally have 10,000 views, up from 8,000,” glees harry. “you?”

“i have only 3,000 views.”

“how come you’ve gained more viewers?” louis asks, “i mean, isn’t half the school in camp haylor?”

“but he’s harry styles,” trisha insists.

“what she means is that everybody is putting up a front for niall and taylor because nobody wants to end up like zayn, or worse, stacey.”

“who is stacey?”

“she stood up against niall and taylor’s orders of the school in sophomore year and she randomly disappeared from the school,” trisha recalls. “i don’t know what the ban was at that time, but she defied it and rumor has it niall send her away to romania. the entire family,” she adds for good measure.

“that’s silly,” louis huffs, rolling his eyes. “so technically people don’t hate harry, they just do it for the sake of niall and taylor?”

“exactly,” harry nods, “it’s always been that way. people love me,” he winks.

louis snorts. “modest much?”

“turth be told, half the people are obsessed by you two because you’re not exactly a conventional couple in the school, and the other half are jealous of you two.”

“so they resort to stalking harry’s snaps to find out…”

trisha excitedly answers,“… about your dates, what you two are up to, where you went, what you two are doing together, does harry have a new  tattoo, you know, _normal_ stuff.”

“i’m guessing you’re one of the people obsessed?” louis hints.

“i’m just lucky to be both your friends and i get to be on your date,” trisha glees, her eyes darting between a chuckling harry and a louis rolling his eyes. “honestly, you two are adorable.” she looks up from her rice salad to catch louis’ sticking out his tongue and licking off the chocolate near his mouth as harry sticks out his tongue before taking a large bite off his sandwich.

a click from trisha’s phone momentarily freezes their actions and they turn their gaze to trisha holding out her phone at them.

“really?” harry chews his words.

“seriously trisha!” louis exclaims.

she says out loud what she is typing with a huge grin on her face: “couple idiots!” she looks up from her phone then back down. “this is perfect honestly. this is going to help me get more followers on snapchat.”

the waiter comes along and takes away their meal and the next waiter lays down their desert: siva af’giw for harry, a slice of ice-cream cake for trisha and something with lots of jam for louis.

“glad i could be part of your journey to social higher class,” louis says dryly, staring at harry’s desert with crooked eyebrows. “what the fook are you eating?”

“siva af’giw,” he replies taking a large bite of… whatever it is on his orange plate. “it’s tasty. want some?”

“looks like i’ll choke on whatever that is. something that has a combination of purple and yellow should not be eaten,” louis replies.

munching on harry’s desert, trisha is of the different opinion. “it’s delicious. a little too much sugar, but nice.”

“louis doesn’t know good desert,” harry winks at trisha.

“or yucky rich people food!” louis protests.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

the trio have a blast in the afternoon, mainly spent lounging around harry’s enormous indoor pool, and somehow they all wind up back at louis’ house on a saturday night. the small twins have been put to bed, the older twins, daisy and phoebe, are cuddle nice and warm in bed with harry reading them a bedtime story, while fizzy, trisha and louis’ dad, dan, are arguing on who would win a skateboarding contest: lady gaga or madonna. the lady gaga camp is winning, aka fizzy and trisha.

in the kitchen are louis and johannah drinking ginger tea before bedtime. johannah, like she always does, has managed to convince louis to tell her what has been bothering him: harry’s father. “i just wish that he had a good upbringing like i did.”

“sweet,” johannah smiles at her teenage son, “but we all grow up differently, others faster than the rest of the world, because of their upbringing.”

“but harry’s dad hates him,” louis says to his teacup. “he put niall, harry’s enemy, on the board of the styles company just to spite his son for having me as an escort to the debutant ball. what kind of dad does that?”

“one who does not love his son.”

“the ironic thing is that everyone else’s father loves their child so much, and they love harry so much more. niall’s father could not be any more proud of his son, taylor’s father thinks the world of his daughter, both my fathers love me, trisha’s dad would skip a round of beers to go home and comfort his crying daughter, liam’s dad considers him like a bestfriend.” he takes a sip of his ginger tea. “he took him for his first beer, playing snooker, driving even before he was 18, football in the backyard… and what does harry get? more money in his trust fund. insults day in, day out from someone who was meant to love him, care for him…”

“i’m sorry,” she says to him, her hands on his wrist. “but you’ve told me that everybody loves him—”

“except the people who _should_ love him unconditionally.”

“he has you.”

louis slowly shakes his head. “harry had his sister, lost her. he had his mother but struggling to get her, and his father? he’s never had him. i’m not enough.”

“listen to me boobear,” she says holding her sons hands into hers, “he has you. you may not know what this means, how much this means to him, but he has you. when he tries over and over again to gain his father’s approval he’ll have you, when he is being bullied by his rich idiot friends, he’ll have you, when he sits at the family table with no family, he’ll have you, when he can barely get his mother to understand him, he’ll have you, when the world is brigning him down to his knees, he’ll have you, and… and when he wants to jump of his rooftop, he won’t because he has you.”

“one day i won’t be enough,” louis says pessimistically. “he has so much love, so much heart to give this cruel world that could care less and that points out his mistakes constantly.”

johannah deeply sighs at her son. she hopes that at least some of what she is saying is getting through to her son but it is as if he has built a tall wall with the words “i’m not enough for harry!” plastered across it with a neon sign.

she takes both of their empty cups and dumps them in the sink. she turns around and walks to her son, pulling him up on his feet for a hug. “don’t let him go just because you think you’re not enough. you’re all he has.”

a low clearing of the throat interrupts them. they both whirl around to find harry awkwardly standing by the kitchen entrance. “i… i came to say goodbye. i tucked daisy and phoebe into bed.” he shifts on his legs. “i think i’ll be heading home now.”

“nonsense!” johanna cries. she lightly taps louis’ shoulder as she walks to harry. “you’re not going home right now. it’s nearly midnight. plus tomorrow is not a school night and you can spend the night here, you’re always welcome, i hope you know that.”

“of course mama johannah but…”

“no buts!” she says loudly. “where are your car keys?”

“louis has them,” he says glancing behind johannah’s back.

“good because you’re not leaving until tomorrow. agreed?” she asks ducking her head to look at him proper. harry nods, not saying anything. this is a first for him, really. his friends’ parents would have sent him straight home, not caring if he arrived safely or not. not with the tomlinson family though, sometimes she thinks they exaggerate the dangers of driving at night but he agrees because really, it is the closest thing to family comfort he will ever receive.

“now bed time,” johannah instructs, “you too mister,” she says to louis. louis groans, muttering that no teenager sleeps at midnight. “you go upstairs, i need to talk to harry first.” louis darts his eyes from his mom to harry then back at his mom who is giving him a stern look.

“goodnight mama,” he calls heading upstairs.

“is everything alright?” he asks once louis had disappeared upstairs.

“of course,” she cheers with a light voice, “why wouldn’t it be?” harry remains quiet. “you know you’re always invited to our home because it’s your home too. with or without louis, you can come here, you won’t be bothering us at all. trisha’s basically spend almost all her weekends here even if half the time louis is with you,” she winks, “but what i’m trying to say is… if things get a little bit hectic back home, you can find refuge here.”

harry opens his mouth to say something, his eyes slightly opened wide at her. johannah’s warm hand grips his shoulder.

“louis didn’t tell me anything that would be personal but the little he told me i connected the dots. i am a mother after all,” she grins at him.

harry bites down on his bottom lip, his gaze looking elsewhere. johannah surprises him with a hug harry stiff in her embrace. both of them frozen in the awkward embrace, harry’s hands limp at his sides. after what feels like _centuries_ johannah sighs in relief when harry’s stiff hands wrap around her and he ducks his head down on her shoulders. he wraps his arms tighter, the warmth from her body warming him – almost warming his cold past with his mother.

“thank you mrs dea-mama johannah,” he says stopping himself from calling louis’ mom by her married name. he lets go of their embrace his smile showing off his dimples. “i appreciate the gesture.”

“anytime,” she replies happily. “and you can call me mama johannah if you want.”

 

 

harry politely nods and makes his way to louis’ bedroom. but before he pops in to fizzy’s room and bids fizzy and trisha goodnight and enters his boyfriend’s bedroom in the attic. louis is lying on his back his arms raised above his head texting on his phone. he turns his head to the bedroom door as harry walks in, his cheeks slightly pink. after taking off his skinny jeans and shirt, and rolling into one of louis’ pj bottoms, harry slips into the other side of the bed, stuck between the wall and louis.

“you know i have shirts you can wear,” louis tells harry. he locks his phone and puts it near harry’s two phones on the bedside table. he turns around, slipping deeper under the covers. he leans forward and kisses his boyfriend gently on the lips and cheekily sliding his leg between harry’s thighs.

“i whale you,” he breathes.

“i whale you,” louis grins. johannah walks into the room muttering it is time for the tomlinson bedtime kiss. “i’m in my prime teens mama, i don’t need kisses!” louis groans out at his mother’s smothering act.

“well, they are not negotiable,” johannah says stopping before louis’ bed. harry his grinning at them, his head the only part of his body poking out from the covers. “plus everyone under this house gets a goodnight kiss, including trisha.”

“trisha’s a sappy loser,” louis points out.

“so are you,” harry grins. louis narrows his eyes at him which makes harry only grin widely back at him.

“see,” johannah smirks, “now c’mon, where’s my son’s head?” louis rolls his eyes and johannah bends down and cups louis’ head with her hands as her lips graze his hair. harry watches the tiny act of bonding with wide, innocent eyes. he has never seen anything like this; growing up his mother called him whiny and childish for requesting a bedtime story, let alone a kiss, and his father was not even around at night times, preferring to spend his nights locked in his office upstairs.

while louis is grumbling under his mother’s embrace, he would do anything to have it for himself – even if his father got himself a new wife, he will constantly crave a mother’s love.

“tell me a story,” harry requests.

louis begins narration about a man named john…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm a little obsessed with larry fanart. HA!!   
> comments & kudos appreciated {=


	57. 0.56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and louis go bowling, and they make a a bet...

> **and you’re the sun. and you’re the universe, too.**

 

 **LOUIS:** I believe people are like books…

 **LOUIS:** Theyve been places youve never been, seen things youve never seen & done things youve never done. The more you get to know someone the more you get to see life in their eyes...

 **LOUIS:** Who knows, maybe youre the most interesting book Ive been reading lately, ASSHEAD!

 **HARRY:** BEST MORNING TEXT EVER!! :D :D :D

 **LOUIS:** You look handsome :]

 **HARRY:** You can’t see me!!

 **HARRY:** Or are you outside my house? :D

 **HARRY:** #MYFAVOURITESTALKER!

 **LOUIS:** I dont need to see you to know youre handsome. Plus I may or may not have seen your morning snap.

 **LOUIS:** And now I want your face.

 **HARRY:**?

 **LOUIS:** BECAUSE ITS COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTE

 **HARRY:** Coote? LOL =)

 **HARRY:** We should go traveling some day.

 **LOUIS:** Where do you want to take your princess?

 **LOUIS:** Prince*

 **HARRY:** Well PRINCESS, I’d take you some place nice.

 **LOUIS:** THAT WAS A TYPO!!!!

 **HARRY:** PRINCESS

 **LOUIS:** TYPO!!! >:[

 **HARRY:** *COMES OVER AND HUGS YOU*

 **HARRY:** *TIGHTLY*

 **HARRY:** MY DEAR, DONNIE PRINCESS

 **LOUIS:** ASSHEADDD IT WAS A TYPOOOOOO

 **HARRY:** Anyway, I’d take you to the most beautiful places under God’s green earth.

 **LOUIS:** Such as?

 **HARRY:** The beaches of Kuala Lumpur are to die for. Not forgetting the gorgeous sunset that will reflect upon your face. And the sunrises are just as breathtaking, if not better, and the road trips!!! TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE.

 **HARRY:** HARD TO BELIEVE a place as majestic as Kuala Lumpur exists when we live in cold, rainy London.

 **LOUIS:** Make way for Poet Styles ;]

 **HARRY:** BTW I miss us texting. Remember how we used to text all the time back in May, June? When we were getting to know each other?

 **LOUIS:** My phone was literally always charging. Mama used to say that my phone technically is a house phone.

 **LOUIS:** But youve been the best thing thats happened since January. I cant believe we didnt somehow meet before Junior Year.

 **HARRY:** YOU’RE MAKING ME SAPPY!!!

 **HARRY:** STOP!!

 **HARRY:** Actually don’t.

 **LOUIS:** Do you want me to be sappy?

 **HARRY:** Please =D

 **HARRY:** NOTE the emoji

 **LOUIS:** I do [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[:

 **HARRY:** Also cliché if you want, since you’re good at those too.

 **LOUIS:** You love my cliché lines. I see you blushing whenever I say them to you. You hide it but I see you Styles.

 **HARRY:** I. DO. NOT. BLUSH, TOMLINSON!!

 **LOUIS:** Do too ;]

 **HARRY:** Not!

 **LOUIS:** I know youve been through hell with your past relationships, but Im thankful that they didnt work out

 **LOUIS:** Youre my asshead now!!

 **HARRY:** *swoons* I am! :D

 **LOUIS:** And Im going to spend my entire being making sure nothing bad happens to you

 **LOUIS:** Im going to treat you right and make you feel good. Anything to see your dimples

 **HARRY:** But I’m a mess, angel.

 **HARRY:** And a lot to handle.

 **LOUIS:** Youre MY MESS ASSHEAD

 **LOUIS:** And I can handle you all day

 **HARRY:** More sappy lines, please.

 **LOUIS:** Im sorry if I kiss you too much when were together

 **LOUIS:** I cant help it.

 **LOUIS:** Your lips are delicious, intoxicating and electric. I seriously never want to stop kissing you and everytime you do stop, I just want to kiss you again, and again, and again, until my lips turn ORANGE!!!!!1!!!1!!!!!

 **HARRY:** orange?

 **LOUIS:** ORANGE!

 **HARRY:** Well, prove it today when we meet for school.

 **LOUIS:** I cant wait [;

 **LOUIS:** My tongue will explain how bad I crave you!

 **HARRY:** DON’T SAY THAT :O

 **HARRY:** IM ABOUT TO SHOWER!!

 **LOUIS:** Oh baby, dont make me hard thinking about your butt getting wet.

 **HARRY:** ahaha butt?

 **LOUIS:** I keep imagining myself dropping down on me knees, sliding my hands down your milky thighs

 **HARRY:** LOU!

 **LOUIS:** Ill spread your strong legs in the shower, kissing in between your thighs, making eye contact with every kiss

 **LOUIS:** Ill then look at at you from down below, the water beating down on my shoulders, and ask “whats for breakfast?”

 **LOUIS:** Harry?

 **LOUIS:** Styles?

 **LOUIS:** HAAAAAAAAAAARRYYY!?!?1

 **LOUIS:** YOU THERE ASSHEAD????

 **HARRY:** I told you I was about to shower… and then you *shudders in pleasure* Let’s just say I vividly pictured everything you described.

 **LOUIS:** Did you touch yourself thinking about me?

 **HARRY:** YES *facepalms*

 **LOUIS:** IM HONORED.

 **HARRY:** Have you eaten breakfast?

 **LOUIS:** Yup. Coco pops and im at the Underground station waiting for Trisha so that we head to school. You?

 **HARRY:** The Cadillac isn’t working so I’m taking the Chrysler to school.

 **LOUIS:** What happened to it?

 **HARRY:** Who cares!

 **LOUIS:** STOP TEXTING ME THEN!!!!!!!!!!!!

 **LOUIS:** DONT TEXT & DRIVE HARRY EDWARD STYLES. ITS DANGEROUS

 **HARRY:** Relax Princess, I’m being driven today.

 **LOUIS:** Aw, Styles, cant be bothered to use his hands to steer the steering wheel?

 **HARRY:** Shhh!!

 **HARRY:** I wanted to keep texting you so I asked the chauffeur to drop me. It’s not like she is taking my mother anywhere.

 **LOUIS:** Your chauffeur is a woman?

 **HARRY:** Yes…

 **LOUIS:** Your chauffeur literally never drives you around, why do you have her anyway?

 **HARRY:** She drives my mother. Can I pick you up? You and Trisha?

 **LOUIS:** No, Im already half way there. Plus, this way I can wait just a little longer for your DELIGHTFUL kisses :*

 **HARRY:** You know at night I always imagine you laying with me in my bed, with one arm on my chest.

 **HARRY:** With your body pressed up against me, it helps me sleep.

 **LOUIS:** :O

 **LOUIS:** HARRY CAN BE A SAP? WHO KNEW!!! But I’m the KING of sappiness.

 **HARRY:** Are not. It’s me, I just let you be all sappy and cuddly because you love it.

 **LOUIS:** And better*

 **HARRY:** Are not.

 **LOUIS:** Prove it.

 **HARRY:** My name for you is: angel. Yours is asshead.

 **LOUIS:** ASSHEAD!!!

 **HARRY:** ANGEL!

 **LOUIS:** K fine. Lets give each other 2 min to come up with a cute name for each other

 **HARRY:** Okay.

 

_*2 minutes later*_

**LOUIS:** Well?

 **HARRY:** Babe(s), baby, angel (obviously), Lou, or Princess.

 **LOUIS:** THAT WAS A TYPO!!! YOUR NAME IS TYPO THEN! ASSHEAD TYPO.

 **LOUIS:** Lou doesnt count cause thats just a short version of my name -.-

 **HARRY:** What are yours since you think you’re King Sappy?

 **LOUIS:** Gorgeous, butterfly (your tat), health addict, King, bird FOOK IM SO AHPPY YOURE M Y BOFYRDN

 **HARRY:** DID YOUR THUMBS HAVE STROKE?

 **HARRY:** And me too *blush blush*

 **LOUIS:** Nah, my heart was having a diarrhoea moment. And I like “babe”!!

 **HARRY:** Yours are terrible! How do you call ME, your boyfriend, “bird”? It’s official, I’m the romantic & sappy one in this relationship.

 **LOUIS:** ARE NOT ASSHEAD

 **HARRY:** In your dreams. And I choose “gorgeous”

 **LOUIS:** Your ear in my dreams.

 **LOUIS:** You are*

 **HARRY:** LOL AHAHHAHAH

 **LOUIS:** I meant YOU ARE in my dreams.

 **HARRY:** And your ear apparently. Hmm.

 **LOUIS:** What are you thinking, “butterfly”?

 **HARRY:** I just imagined myself living in your ear for the rest of your life.

 **LOUIS:** And?

 **HARRY:** I get to be with you, so no problems. The down part is I don’t get your kisses.

 **LOUIS:** LOVE! I’ll call you love as a cute name.

 **HARRY:** -.- that’s so British!

 **LOUIS:** You’re British. So am I. What’s the issue?

 **HARRY:** It’s better than “bird.”

 **LOUIS:** LOVE

 **HARRY:** -.-

 **LOUIS:** HI LOVE. HELLO LOVE.

 **HARRY:** -.-

 **LOUIS:** WHATCHA DOING LOVE?

 **HARRY:** Oh gosh!

 **LOUIS:** SAY HELLO LOVE.

 **HARRY:** You’re being extra British babe

 **LOUIS:** BABE *heart eyes*

 **HARRY:** What’s your name on my phone?

 **LOUIS:** LOVE

 **HARRY:** No. The name you gave me on your phone.

 **LOUIS:**  *attached image 110KB*

 **HARRY:** Oh, you were serious? I’m called love on your phone?!

 **LOUIS:** What’s mine?

 **HARRY:** *attached image 136KB*

 **LOUIS:** PRINCESS? PRINCESS???

 **LOUIS:** IT.WAS.A.TYPO!!

 **HARRY:** It used to be “Beckham” with a green love heart because you are in love David Beckham.

 **HARRY:** Obsessed*

 **LOUIS:** HES THE GREATEST FOOTBALLER OF OUR TIME. WHY DONT PEOPLE UNDERSTAND?!

 **LOUIS:** And I approve of that name. Change it back.

 **HARRY:** Nah, I like Princess.

 **LOUIS:** *attached image 112KB*

 **HARRY:** You called me yellow? And what is that emoji?

 **LOUIS:** I think fire… Im not sure.

 **HARRY:** I’m yellow now?

 **LOUIS:** Yes, because you’re sunny.

 **HARRY:** And you’re the sun.

 **HARRY:** And you’re the universe, too.

 **LOUIS:** oh shut it you

 **HARRY:** Make me Princess

 **LOUIS:** I will. But you might moan a little..

 **HARRY:** NO! I am not going to get hard in the back of the Chrysler. Not today. Getting hard twice from you is enough.

 **LOUIS:** Twice only? [;

 **HARRY:** Are you still at the Underground station?

 **LOUIS:** TRISHAS TAKING FOREVER TO ARRIVE.

 **HARRY:** Call her.

 **LOUIS:** ive texted her. She says five minutes. Apparently the Underground stalled. Have you reached?

 **HARRY:** 5 minutes away, a little traffic on the road.

 **HARRY:** I have a great night planned for tomorrow :)

 **LOUIS:** EMOJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII :D

 **LOUIS:** Where are you taking me, “butterfly”?

 **HARRY:** Some place nice, cosy and we don’t have to wear suits.

 **LOUIS:** IM IN! Suits are terrible pieces of shit clothing. Why did people invent them?

 **HARRY:** -….-

 **LOUIS:** Where are we going for our 1st month anniversary?

 **HARRY:** I can’t say. It’s a surprise. And honestly I’m glad I’M planning our date because your dates are terrible.

 **HARRY:** Remember Butter?

 **LOUIS:** THAT WAS ONCE! Plus it was our 1st OFFICIAL date and I wanted it to be special. I wanted to take you somewhere where you would love and be comfortable.

 **HARRY:** It wasn’t YOUR idea, angel, hence why it was a terrible date.

 **LOUIS:** I just thought it would be.

 **HARRY:** THAT’S WHY IM PLANNING OUR 1ST MONTH ANNIVERSARY :D :D :D :D

 **HARRY:** ARE YOU EXCITED?

 **LOUIS:** What’s the dress code??

 **HARRY:** Casual. NO TANK TOPS! No black jeans either.

 

_*1.5 hours later*_

 

 **LOUIS:** Did I mention how much I HATE Maths?! SOO MUCH!! Please save me. Having Maths first lesson should be illegal. Especially if its a double.

 **HARRY:** I have a free :)

 **LOUIS:** Why can’t I wear black jeans for our date?

 **HARRY:** Just because.

 **LOUIS:** Kkkkkkkkk straaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaange! Fine. Ill look deep into my closet to see if I have non-black jeans!!

 **LOUIS:** IM SHOOTING DAGGERS @ YOU B.T.W

 **HARRY:** Good luck with that. Lunch today?

 **LOUIS:** Would love to but I have football practice. And did I tell you Im the NEW Captain of the FOOTBALL TEAM?

 **HARRY:** YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS

 **HARRY:** KUDOOOOOOOOOOOOOS TOMLINSON!!!!!!!

 **HARRY:** :D :D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D

 **HARRY:** YOU DESERVE ALL OF MY EMOJIS RIGHT NOW!!!

 **LOUIS:** IM HONORED!! AHAHA

 **LOUIS:** Thanks Styles. I’m so stoked about it. You shouldve seen Nialls face when my name was called as the Captain. But hes my assistant Captain :[ #KMN

 **HARRY:** It’s no problem though. You call the shots and everyone would rather have you as their Captain than Niall any day.

 **LOUIS:** You think so?

 **HARRY:** I know so.

 **LOUIS:** I just hope I dont ruin the schools football reputation. We are one of the best schools in UK in football.

 **HARRY:** You’ll make the reputation even better, I know. Niall will never make our team great. Look what happened to the basketball team for our school? It’s his fault we don’t even compete nationwide anymore.

 **LOUIS:** UGH! ENOUGH NIALL TALK. I want to talk about tonight………..

 **HARRY:** Not saying anything. Gigi’s just told me that it’s also Niall’s party.

 **LOUIS:** I saw Liams invite. It said, “Everyone is invited APART from Larry Stylinson.” The Larry Stylinson is in bold.

 **HARRY:** Bleh

 **LOUIS:** Bleh? You never say bleh.

 **HARRY:** Because I don’t care that my stupid ex-friend is throwing a party for everyone! I DON’T CARE!

 **LOUIS:** I’m excited for tonight [:

 **HARRY:** I can’t wait to see you tonight.

 **LOUIS:** What are YOU wearing? Those flower shirts and black boots?

 **HARRY:** *changes outfit*

 **LOUIS:** You were going to wear it weren’t you?

 **HARRY:** I went shopping OBVIOUSLY! I had nothing to wear for tomorrow.

 **LOUIS:** You have a bloody walk-in closet, Styles, Im sure youd find something. And I dont mind seeing you in your flower shirts.

 **HARRY:** Liar!

 **LOUIS:** I like the LESS darker ones. Or the ones that dont look like curtains. Or couch covers.

 **HARRY:** Funny.

 **LOUIS:** Why cant I wear a tank top? Its the end of July, Im allowed to WEAR tank tops.

 **HARRY:** N.O! If you do I’m forcing you back to your closet and you’ll wear what I find. I was surprised to see you had proper shirts in there =)

 **LOUIS:** Mama thought I should be a ‘gentleman’ whatever that means.

 **HARRY:** You do look dapper in a suit though =)

 **LOUIS:** Talk to you later, the horrid devil has arrived for her lesson.

 **HARRY:** *KISSES YOUR LIPS* See you later, angel.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

 

“bowling?” louis questions in surprise as his eyes take in the venue of the bowling alley.

the couple who have been disinvited from niall’s legendary parties are at the bowling alley for their first month anniversary, set up quite nicely by harry. harry, being harry and a styles, has bought out the entire place for the night meaning it is just the two of them in the whole alley – apart from the three workers – but really it is just them.

however, that _would have been_ the ideal date. harry knows that louis would have scolded him for doing such a thing and therefore did _not_ buy out the alley for the night. despite the other people at the bowling alley, he at least bought brand new bowling shoes for both of them. a styles does not wear other people’s sweaty bowling shoes. never!

standing behind him, he leans in his ear and asks, “do you like it?”

louis’ back leans into harry’s chest. “i love it, butterfly.”

“so we’ve officially settled on butterfly?” chuckles harry into his ear.

louis turns around in harry’s embrace and tugs his chin up. “thanks for the bowling shoes as well,” he smiles, “this is perfect.”

harry glees, thoroughly pleased that his idea of their first month anniversary is perfect for louis. he leans down and kisses him fondly.

“whoever wins gets to buy the first round of cheese fries,” louis challenges. harry agrees. they get to playing the first round of bowling, louis winning by a mile. because he won, harry walks to the small restaurant to buy them both cheeses fries.

louis pockets out his phone and opens his snapchat app. he snaps a photo of the alley – there is a girl who falls on the floor in the background –  puts on the best filter and captions it: _1 month with butterfly & cheese fries !!_

just then he takes a peek at his boyfriend ordering for their cheesy fries. with a girl. he completely turns in his chair and squints at the blond girl with her fake tits (obviously) pushed up harry’s chest . she is laughing hard, obviously trying too hard, squeezing harry’s bicep and there’s barely any space between their faces.

louis’ eyes turn immediately green with jealousy. nobody touches his boyfriend! he stomps to where they both are. harry notices louis walking towards them, momentarily not listening to what the blond girl with fake tits is saying.

he cups harry’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss. louis locks his lips with his own, harry startled by the kiss from louis that came out of nowhere. in the back, louis hears the girl, “humph!” and he cheers internally. he breathes in through his nose, sliding his tongue in harry’s lovely mouth. he twists their bodies so that the girl has a side view of their steamy, hot snog.

louis breaks the kiss, his hands dropping to his sides with a wide smirk on his face. harry’s eyes are blown out, his wet lips hanging open and cheeks colored bright red. louis shoots the blond girl a quick _he’s my boyfriend_ look and then walks off, leaving harry flustered and the girl frustrated.

“what was that all about?” harry asks sitting down near him in their section of the bowling alley. he places the plate of cheese fries on his lap, picks one up and feeds his boyfriend.

“nothing,” louis answers, chewing.

“you kissed me out of nowhere. plus i saw the dirty look you gave her, you were totally jealous.” harry pieces everything together.

“was not,” louis denies, his blushing cheeks betraying him. harry stares at him waiting for louis to admit he may have been a little jealous. louis levels him with a look not saying anything.

“fine,” harry gives in, “but just so you know, you look extra hot when you’re jealous.”

“who was she?”

“some girl from school. she was telling me how niall’s party is boring and nearly three-quarters of the people at his party are watching our snapchat stories of our monthversary date,” harry beams.

“is that even a word?”

harry shrugs. “these are actually good,” he hums munching on the cheese fires, “honestly, how many ways are there to eat _fries_?”

“a thousand and one.”

“we should try all of them.”

“by the time we’re done, we will be 70 years!”

“at least we’ll be in the guinness world records, right?”

louis shakes his head. “you’re unbelievable. just like in bowling.”

“we’re totally playing another game, i cannot be humiliated by someone wearing green skinny jeans,” he says his glance dropping to louis’ thighs.

“you told me not to wear any black jeans!” louis protests. “plus they are _forest green_ not just green. that’s what fizzy said anyway.”

“i like them.” louis turns to him. he gets off his seat, not breaking eye contact with harry, and sits on his lap, bending his legs at the knees. “and i like you,” harry hums. his gaze shifts to louis’ open lips then at louis’ eyes as he licks his own.

louis rubs their nose together, his fingers snaking round harry’s neck, and shuts the space between their lips. harry’s wraps fly out to curl above louis ass. louis pushes himself up against harry sliding his tongue along harry’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. louis’s hand tangles itself in harry’s brown greasy hair as his left hand slips underneath his shirt. he presses his tongue on harry’s, loving the feel of it, loving that he gets to taste all of harry.

their lips part when they hear a click near them. they turn to find a girl from their school (louis is not so sure) holding out her phone at them and a smirk on her face.

“you guys are so adorbs!” she glees, quickly typing on her phone.

“seriously marria?” harry snaps, “aren’t you meant to be anywhere else?”

“niall’s party?” she scoffs, “please. like anybody is having fun there. everybody wants to know what’s going on with you two, we just don’t like to admit it.”

“stop snapping photos of us!” harry bites. “it’s annoying. isn’t there anyone else you can bother?”

“yes but zayn and gigi broke up.”

before harry can snap at her again, she walks off happy with herself that she got a close view of larry stylinson in action.

“i’m sorry about that,” harry apologizes. louis shakes his head at him and then locks their lips together. harry moans a little when louis presses hard on his crotch. louis jerks his shirt forward pressing their lips together. harry moans once more when louis tugs on his bottom lip and biting on it a little to hurt and send him on the edge... of his seat.

louis topples onto the floor, harry gasping. he stands up, pulling louis from the floor, apologizing profusely.

“it’s fine. i… i need a drink,” louis says, voice raspy. he takes large gasps of breath through his mouth. “i need a drink,” he repeats.

“are you okay?” harry asks alarmed.

louis nods. “yeah. do you want anything?”

harry shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip. louis walks away and he sits down, immediately heading to snapchat on his iphone. he finds marria easily (she is following him) and watches the snap video that she took of them – louis sitting on top of him, kissing his face senseless.

he rolls his eyes and opens his snapchat camera, front view. he takes a look at his lip – his bottom one especially – and it is bright red and glistening. he runs his index finger along it, blood rushing to his cheeks, and between his legs. he bites down on it, shutting his eyes tight, and thinking of his grandmother in her knickers sliding down a stripper poll.

he clicks on the video option and takes a snap video of an couple in their mid-thirties bowling together, the lady cheers when she hits all the pins down and the husband fondly cheering with her. as a caption for the snap video, he writes: _bowling champs!_

louis comes back with a large drink of sprite and coca cola. he hands harry the sprite bottle telling him, “they had sprite.” and harry thanks him.

“now c’mon, let’s play,” louis says putting his drink down, “i need to win twice in a row.”

“you wish! what’s the deal this time?”

“you name it,” louis requests. he picks up a bowling ball and slips his fingers in the three holes.

“winner gets to…” he contemplates and pauses to think. he lights up when he thinks of an idea. “the winner gets to dress the loser for the next day.”

“so tomorrow?” asks louis accepting the fun of the challenge. harry nods. “be prepared to wear a tank top asshead.”

“ha! you’ll be wearing my flowering shirts… and boots! oh! don’t forget the beige fedora hat that you hate so much.”

“you’ll wear an adidas jacket,” louis taunts. harry gawks at him, his facial expression showing nothing but being mortified. he regains his cool and tells louis that that will not happen.

“before we start, take another ball into your other hand and put in before your chest so it looks like you have huge boobs!” harry laughs, his phone at the ready. louis laughs too, doing what harry has requested him. harry clicks his camera, several photos of louis grinning back at harry with large ‘bowling breasts’.

“i look like an idiot, don’t i?” asks louis, looking at the photos on harry’s iphone.  harry holds the phone at an arm’s length and requests that they take a selfies together. louis nods, and puts down the bowling balls.

they take lots of selfies together, louis mainly doing funny faces with cross-eyes, and harry beaming like an idiot. there is one where louis turns his head and quickly pecks harry’s lips and harry stares at it a little longer than the rest. or one where louis, seeing as he is shorter than him, is kissing his cheek by tiptoeing.

there is one that harry posts on his snap story is a video of louis picking up a bowling ball, waving it at harry and accidentally dropping it. harry bursts into laughter just as the video stops recording. or another when louis only knocks down one bowling pin, telling his snappers that louis is going to lose the bet.

if everyone is being honest, the girls and boys at school at niall’s party are watching their snaps of their anniversary date religiously, and they even bet amongst themselves who will win: harry or louis. most people have placed their best – or tots of vodka and whiskey – on harry to win the challenge. the rest have bet on louis because really, who does not want to see harry donned in a tank top? that has never happened. yum!

“oi!” louis calls out. “i will not.”

“you will!”

harry gives hands him his phone and picks up a bowling ball. louis presses the snap video button stating: “butterfly over here thinks he is going to win but we all know he’s a sore loser at bowling.” harry then shoots him a look. “let’s see if he can win, this time… or never!”

harry knocks off six bowling pins and loudly cheers, some other people in the bowling alley fleetingly glancing his way. “i’m the best!” he cheers.

“it’s just one game.”

they continue playing, their scores almost the same on the screen above them, and the extraordinary moment happens: louis wins!

“noooooooo!” harry wails. louis jumps around in happiness, throwing his hands in the air, and wriggling his butt. he sticks out his tongue at harry who slumps down on his seat and drowns his wailings in his sprite bottle.

“you’re going to wear an adidas jacket!” louis laughs loudly. “an adidas jacket!” he is on the bowling alley ground, his eyes tightly shut and his laughter roaring. “you! an adidas jacket!”

 

 

 

back in louis’ house, he is still joyfully reminding harry that he lost the bowling bet and he has to wear an adidas jacket, a neon green tank top, khaki shorts, and to end it all with a pair of vans. tribal print vans, to be specific.

harry’s jaw drops to the floor. he horrifically stares at the outfit laid neatly on louis’ bed, louis himself somewhere behind harry snickering. he turns around and begs louis not to wear the adidas jacket.

“please louis, just please don’t make me wear the jacket. i’ll do anything! anything not to wear it. you can even add another item to the outfit,” he suggests, pleading still.

“you’re not making this fun!” louis pouts. he nevertheless agrees. he takes the adidas jacket off his bed and heads back to his closet.

“plus who wears khaki shorts with tribal print vans?” harry wonders.

“you keep saying that and i will change my mind and you’ll wear sandals instead of vans,” louis threatens and harry shuts his mouth. oh, the horror of wearing sandals! sandals are not shoes, he knows the memo. “or crocs!”

harry feels like he is going to faint any minute.

he walks back to the bed, question marks all around his face. “what happened to you adding something to my outfit?”

louis shrugs, looking at the clothes laying on his floor. “the tomlinsons are not cruel people. i know how much you hate adidas so you won’t wear it tomorrow.” harry murmurs a thank you to him. “but you’re wearing everything else.”

“why a green tank top?”

“it brings out your eyes.”

harry gives him a sideway glance and notices color spreading across his boyfriend’s cheek. “this i can do,” harry tells him. he suddenly yawns covering his mouth suddenly, embarrassed.

“are you tired?” louis chuckles. before harry replies, louis speaks, “take a nap. i don’t mind.”

“are you sure?”

“you’re tired,” he says, shooing him towards his bed. he piles the clothes on the chair by the window as harry takes off his brown ysl boots. he slips under the covers while louis grabs his sudoku book and a pencil. he got the book from harry as a present a month ago when harry had noticed louis, with his glasses on, solving a sudoku puzzle and asked him if he liked doing sudokus. he did. therefore he bought him a book with 246 sudoku puzzles.

nearly 40 minutes pass when harry stirs awake. he stretches his hand above his head, the tips of his fingers touching the light blue wall. he takes his phone off the bed side table and checks his snapchat app to see how many views he has. a small smile appears on his face when he sees that he has, barely five hours later, above 8, 970 views on each of his videos and photos from his date with louis.

louis walks in his room with a cup of tea. “you’re awake?”

“i just woke up,” he says yawning after his sentence. he sits on his bed, rubbing his eyes. louis hands him the cup of tea.

“i made it for you,” louis says. 

“thanks, angel,” harry smiles. “hmm. blueberry?” louis nods. “you finally made me tea.” harry winks.

louis sits cross-legged on the bed and pulls his laptop onto his lap. “i told you i can make any tea under the sun.”

“that you did,” harry hums, blowing into his tea. carefully holding his tea, he crawls out of the covers and sits near louis, laying his head on his shoulder. “ _adventure time_? is it where we left off from last time?”

“yeah.”

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

harry makes his way down the school hallway donned in louis’ outfit that he chose for him yesterday: hair tired in a bun, a neon green tank top, a bob marley necklace that louis “happened to find last minute” in the back of his closet (harry suspects he asked dan), khaki shorts that he has folded twice above the knees, and a pair of tribal print vans; no socks.

he can feel stares as he makes his way down, some phones are out clicking away. ignoring the whispers and o-shaped mouths, he spots liam and makes his way to him.

“who knew you’re the one who lost the challenge?” liam laughs upon seeing harry making his way towards him. “and look at you in a tank top! honestly, you couldn’t look anymore different. i never thought i’d see your ankles.” harry rolls his eyes. “you wear boots all the time and then socks with it,” he briefly looks at harry’s naked ankles, “and then jeans. so, yes, excuse me if i’ll be staring at your ankles all day. don’t we have about 5 classes together today?”

“kill me please,” harry groans.

“do you hate the outfit though?”

“i like the vans and shorts, this tank top looks ridiculous! i feel like i’m heading to the beach.”

liam laughs loudly at harry. “who knew louis had khaki shorts! and that bob marley necklace.” liam is laughing, holding onto the door of his locker. “irie!”

“what?”

“it means ‘alright’ in jamaican,” laughs liam. “i thought what with you wearing a marley necklace, you’d be conversant in basic jamaican. do you have a ysl box of rolled blunts in your bag?”

harry rolls his eyes. “no!”

“you can smoke up with zayn an—”liam does not finish his sentence, punctuating with roars of laughter.

“what do we have this morning?” asks harry, changing the subject.

“italian,” liam responds shutting his locker. they make their way further down the hallway, harry ignoring the curious glances from the students. they make their way through the school courtyard, past the it and science blocks, to the languages block.

“harry!” a girl glees as harry and liam take their seats by the window in the class. “you should wear tank tops more often, really shows off your arms.”

liam snickers beside him and harry stops himself from rolling his eyes. “absolutely not! i feel like i’m walking to the beach.”

“how did you lose a bowling game to louis,” another girl comments. “we were all on team harry.”

“thanks.”

 

for their next lesson, they have double physics (back to the science block) and harry can die any moment. they have a surprise quiz seeing as tony got their teacher on a bad mood and forced the class to have a quiz. to make the lesson longer than it really is, they are put into groups to complete questions from page 201 from their thick textbook before break time. harry, liam, tony and sarah are in one group.

“your second boyfriend, aye?” liam teases harry. it is no secret that tony has had the biggest crush on harry since sophomore year. and harry may or may not have fucked him in the gym lockers just because.

“shut up!”

the four of them sit near the window, getting their books out (liam and harry sharing a book as harry forgot to stop by his locker). tony spiritedly flirts with harry as soon as he gets the chance, harry politely wading off his sexual innuendo comments; liam is snickering by himself and sarah has had enough.

“can you two stop flirting?” she snaps. “i’d like to start.”

“i’d love to start,” harry agrees.

“aw, you can’t shut down a beautiful proposal by tony.”  harry narrows his green eyes at liam. “i mean, he literally got you your favourite ed sheeran concert tickets!”

“you mentioned once that you love ed sheeran and he is touring london for his _x_ album and i just couldn’t let the chance pass,” tony defends, his hand on harry bare arm where his naked mermaid tattoo is.

“i have a boyfriend,” harry says, removing tony’s arm.

tony grips his bicep, squeezing it and a creepy look appears on his face that looks similar to a moan. “he’ll never know.”

“can we start on the work? we have—” sarah pleads to the three boys that they should work on their physics group assignment but harry is busy fuming at tony’s persistent advances.

“no!” harry says strongly. he removes tony’s arm off his body and the boy persists by pressing his palm on the naked part of harry’s thigh.

“i want you,” tony hoarsely whispers.

“i don’t!” he snaps, yanking tony’s hand off his knee. “and stop touching me. whatever dreams you have in your head of us… drown them in bleach because nothing will happen.”

“i remember that time in the lockers…” tony reminds harry. he growls angrily at tony, liam gasps softly and sarah throws her pen on top of her book, so done with all three of them.

“you know who would be interested in all these stories?” harry snaps at tony. “my boyfriend, louis, would love to hear all about it, why don’t you tell him!”

fear grips tony, his eyes open wide at a stone-faced harry. liam darts his gaze rapidly between harry and tony, not knowing if he is surprised at harry’s outburst or that tony has stopped flirting with harry.

“can we finally start?” sarah asks.

“please!” harry insists. they swiftly work on their assignment, not a word is exchanged between tony and harry. lunch time comes quickly enough for harry but a little too fast because gossip has spread about the tony and harry and the narrative has changed. rumor has it that harry threw a punch at tony.

“i didn’t punch him!” harry cries falling back onto the football pitch. it is lunch time and he is eating with trisha (two of her minions are seating four metres away), gigi, and mckenzie.

“that’s not what’s he’s saying,” mckenzie points out.

“he says that you punched him after he politely gave you a hug,” gigi explains the rumors. harry sits upright and takes mckenzie’s water bottle, taking gulps of it.

“i didn’t punch him!”

“then you threw another punch because he spoke badly about louis,” adds trisha.

“i didn’t punch him!” harry says slowly, through his teeth.

“what happened?”

“he was flirting with me, touching me everywhere, and i kept telling him no. liam was laughing the whole time, then sarah was getting pissed we weren’t doing any physics work, which we had to stay 15 minutes into break to finish,” harry huffs, “and then i told him off by saying he should tell louis all this to his face.”

the three girls gape at him.

“louis is going to murder tony!” trisha shrieks.

 “it got him off my—” the bell rings, indicating the end of lunch time. “great, and now my lunch is short.”

“i honestly think wearing a tank top was the worst idea,” gigi giggles.

“i think it’s the best,” trisha cheers. “you’ve gotten so many people hitting on you, others flirting, and did i mention i can finally see what your ankles look like?”

“the last time i ever saw your ankles was in february during your pool party,” gigi remembers. “but it’s true, we rarely see your ankles.”

“you have sexy ankles,” mckenzie winks. “what do you have now?”

“double english,” harry replies. “you?”

“french with gigi then i have a free lesson,” says mckenzie. “see you at 4 o’clock?”

“yup.”

 

back in mrs maths class, in the creative block, harry has probably uttered the words, “i did not punch him!” so many times it has become a song. honestly, can people just move on? and why is tony changing the story? how is it that louis’ tank top has seen many students flirting with him, touching him extra, and not just from tony?

“i heard you punched a guy for me,” louis teases embracing his boyfriend in a hug, his chest pressed to harry’s back.

“i didn’t punch the guy!”

“hmm.” louis kisses his cheek and drops in the seat beside him. “what happened?” trisha is all too happy to explain what happened. “that fooking dickhead should keep his hands to himself! he has no right to touch you,” he fumes, his lips brushing behind harry’s ear. “only i do.”

“i told him,” harry murmurs.

“he should know only i,” – louis’s tongue slides on harry’s earlobe and his teeth tug on it – “get to touch you,” – he slips his fingers underneath harry’s tank top and thumbs harry’s nipple –“and only me.”

“yes, sir,” harry shudders under louis’ fingers, then locks their lips. “only you,” he repeats breaking the kiss only to smash their aching lips together again.

“enough!” trisha shrieks, the couple breaking from their kiss, “i can’t deal with your overload cuteness!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saME TRISHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! hope you enjoyed the chapter - long enough to make up for the dry spell /=


	58. 0.57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the principal hosts the semester's school sleepover. the theme: bonding & reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to say IMMENSE thank you's for the kudos, comments, hits etc. i hope i'm not boring you with this story, though by this point if i was i don't think you'd still be reading [;
> 
> enjoy ☻

 

 

> **i was surrounded by people who cared more about money than laughing, wanted diamonds and watches than hugs and high-fives**

  

harry shuts the door to louis’ bedroom and steps forward to his boyfriend’s bed. at the foot of his bed are papers, _loads_ of papers, scattered around and two textbooks… of biology. louis is sleeping lying on his back on the bed, his mouth open and soft snores escaping through. one of his hands is dangling to the floor, his fingers grazing the wooden floor.

he places the green, plastic bag of chinese takeaway, and a bottle of rich wine from his wine cellar, on the bedside table. he picks up the papers scattered on the floor and slaps the book shut with the papers between. he cheekily knees the bed and towers louis, both his heads on either side of his head. he leans down and locks louis’ bottom lip with his.

louis jolts awake, and his eyes flare open. harry remains still, and his eyes closed. louis relaxes underneath harry and cups his neck and kissing him soundly.

“hey,” harry breathes.

“hey butterfly,” louis murmurs sweetly. “nice surprise.”

“i aim to please,” harry laughs. he pecks his lips once more and then gets off the bed. “i don’t come alone.”

“wine?” asks louis, his head turning to his right and looking at the wine bottle and a green, plastic bag. “what’s in the bag?”

“chinese. your favourite.”

“you’re too kind to me,” louis blushes. his gaze shifts to harry. “what time is it?”

“almost nine. i told johannah you won’t be coming down for dinner. convinced her with a bottle of wine, the one she’s been asking for.”

“you’re too good, styles.”

harry blushes. “now c’mon, get out of bed and come eat.”

“shower first.”

as louis is showering, he goes downstairs to fetch two wine glasses but johannah’s sort of run out. somehow, she has. instead, harry takes two normal glasses with the logo of manchester city on them and he kept but lightly snort-chuckle. he makes his way up to the attic, and lays out the food on the floor. he places the two glasses on the floor besides the chinese food, and pours out the wine into both of them. next, he scans the room looking for louis’ laptop. by the window pane. he takes it and plugs in his usb stick.

louis walks in to his room, shutting the door behind him, and stops to stare at the scene before him: chinese food (vegetable noodles, his favourite) and wine and of course a harry sitting _criss-cross applesauce_ on the floor.

“this is amazing,” he breathes. harry’s eyes twinkle and his dimples show. “tangerine?”

“johannah scolded me for not bringing fruits.” he pats on the empty space near him. “sit! we have something to watch.”

“what is it?” he asks making his way to the food.

“ _pirates of the caribbean: dead men tell no tales._ ”

louis leans down and kisses harry’s temple. “can i wear your hoddie?” harry hands him his hoodie lying on the bed and asks if he is cold. “no, i just want to wear it,” he says. the hoodie is obviously large on him and he now has hoodie paws, his little fingers sticking through the sleeves. harry swoons.

“what delicious gourmet do we have today?” louis dramatically asks.

“well, for tonight sir,” harry says in his best imitation voice of a british butler, “we have imported wine from france, chinese food,” his index finger points to three plates of food, “that is vegetable noodles, chicken rice and chicken with bamboo shoots, and as recommended by your mother, two tangerines.”

“delish!” louis swoons. “and for tonight’s special, johnny depp.”

“no one better,” harry winks. he hands louis his plate of food, mixed with all three, and a glass of wine, filled halfway. “the wine and food combination is all wrong but who says no to a little red?”

louis quickly kisses his flushing cheeks, murmuring, “thank you.” harry quickly turns and pecks his lips. they eat their food, watching the adventures of captain salazar and then, what with louis being a slow eater and harry drowning the wine, they watch the fourth saga of pirates of the caribbean. louis pours harry more wine while harry adds vegetable noodles to his plate. the movie continues playing what with the black pearl heads to the farthest gates to seek captain jack sparrow.

“honestly, how does that man snap his toe off?” harry laughs merrily. when the boy laying his head on his shoulder does not laugh (and he had expected him to laugh) so he leans his head forward and looks at him. “what’s wrong, love?”

“i failed.” harry puts down his wine glass and wraps his arms around louis’ shoulders. “i failed my biology exam. i read the question wrong and it was fooking 30 marks. _30 marks_ harry!”

“i’m sorry,” harry murmurs not knowing what else to say.

“i’ve failed it. and now reading the books and the papers, the answer was so obvious. it was all about the bloody circulation system and i fooking wrote someth—”

“the paper is done. now you just need to focus on your exams for the next three days. you’ll be fine, i promise you that.”

“but i’ll just be thinking about the 30 marks biology one.”

“i know,” he hoarsely says, his lips brushing louis ear. “but right now if you dwell on one paper, you’ll not study and revise for your other papers which you’ll do marvellously at.” he on his earlobe. “stop dwelling on it, angel.”

“fine,” louis breathes. harry kisses the outer part of his ear and hands him a glass of wine. “i don’t get your obsession with wine.”

“it’s delish,” harry smirks. “you look good in my hoodie, by the way.”

“i look good in everything,” louis cheers. “where are chopsticks?” harry hands him the light green chopsticks. louis tries in vain to hold his rice between his chopsticks, the pieces of rice falling back on his plate. he tries again, lifting the chopsticks just before his mouth, grunting when the rice falls again. he turns to harry, laughing at him with his phone pointed to him.

“are you snapping me? i can’t eat rice and you’re snapping at me?”

harry laughs loudly, so loud louis smiles softly, loving the sounds of his laughter. “honestly, you’re too addicted to snapchat.”

“it’s not, i’m just recording on my phone.”

louis gives up and uses harry’s fork to eat rice while harry uses chopsticks to eat his own. and he does so very well. louis rolls his eyes at him, widen his palms to pull his fingers through the sleeves while turning his attention to johnny depp, nay captain jack sparrow and the brethren court discussing the death of sao fang.

**=     =     =     =**

 

harry drops his bags on the last table in the library by the “x” section. louis has his head buried in between his books, exhausted from reading since morning for his afternoon german exam. thankfully, only three days to go before the exam week is officially over.

a light bulb appears on top of harry’s head. he pulls the chair diagonal from louis and gets under the light brown table. he cannot stop himself from snickering as he slowly pushes louis chair backward, enough to poke his head from underneath the table.

next he gingerly unbuttons his skinny jeans and louis startles awake. he whirls his head around then down to between his thighs where harry’s head is lodged. he places his index finger on his plump red lips, breathing, “shhh!”

louis looks up and scans the library. there are no people on his table (thankfully!), but one table up and to his left are three students busy tapping on their calculators, next to them couple of lads, and further down the library is swarmed with more students.

his lips form an ‘o’ shape and gasps loudly as harry presses the back of his tongue to the underside of his throbbing cock. he finds himself sliding down the seat, letting harry have better access. his pulse quickens, his throat dry and wide open. as if by some invisible magic, his left hand tugs on harry’s hair guiding him down his cock.

with his nose buried deep into louis’ pubic hair, harry flattens his palm and slides it underneath louis’ tank top, louis feeling fire where harry’s hands are sinfully tracing his toned chest. louis’s hips jerk and he violently throws his head back, his wides flying wide open.

“fuck!” he gasps. his body is trembling underneath harry’s hot, wet, wide mouth eating him, sucking him, his cheeks hollow from bopping up and down, and it is not long before he is wobbling, almost… getting… there.

“cum for me babe,” harry whisper-orders. harry swallows him, louis’ cock hitting the back of his throat. louis’ jerks his hips, harry choking from the surprise, and he fills his boyfriend’s mouth with all of him. louis somehow in the back of his mind remembers that he is in a library and cannot therefore _scream_. his orgasm shouts die on his tongue but his mouth drops and his fingers tug on harry’s bun so hard he yanks off his hair tie.

his lung collapses inside of him, taking in large gasps of the sweet, sweet library air. harry secretly pulls louis chair back underneath the table after zipping louis’ jeans up. he swiftly sits in the chair diagonal from louis with a filthy smirk on his face.

“that—you—amazing!” louis rumbles, his brain still reeling from his orgasm. “fooking loved it.”

he quickly scans the library to see if anyone caught them. the table next to theirs to the left are all looking at them, two are gawking and one is looking at them with disgust. he replies to louis after sending them a small smile, “you looked like you needed a wake-me up.”

louis sits upright on his chair, his cheeks flushed. “i did. i fell asleep.” he hands harry back his hair tie. “sorry about that.”

“i loved it,” he winks. he quickly ties his hair in a bun. “what are you reading for?”

“i have german after lunch.” harry makes a face. “you?”

“italian.”

“i don’t know why i did german!” louis groans rubbing his face with his hands. “i should’ve done french or spanish. or italian like you. why can’t exams be over?”

“only three more days then we’re done,” harry says in a cheery tone. “and then we have the school sleepover and school dance.”

“ugh! i don’t know why we have school sleepovers.”

“for bonding,” harry says mechanically. “for bonding kids, for bonding.”

“you do a good impression of the principal,” louis laughs.

harry opens up his macbook and shuffling through his bag for his earphones. “crap! i forgot my earphones.”

“you can use mine, i’m not using them,” louis offers. harry nods and louis hands him his red earphones. “what are you watching?”

“some italian cartoon that our teacher said we should watch,” harry says and puts in his earphones. lunchtime finds the both of them in the library, and liam finds them both. he sits opposite harry and gets to reading the dictionary. he believes the best way to learn a language is reading the dictionary – not the translation dictionary but the actual dictionary of the language.

louis falls asleep again on top of his book for the second time, his mouth open and drool pooling around his mouth. liam chuckles to himself and kicks harry under the table. he points to louis and harry, too, chuckles. he pockets out his phone, drags his chair back and walks around louis. he clicks away on his phone, capturing all angles of louis sleeping.

“c’mon, it’s almost 2 o’clock,” liam says looking at his hublot watch. “the languages block is, literally, three hours away.”

“i know right.” he packs his belongings quickly, then louis’ belongings while waking him up. “you were asleep,” he says to him softly.

“again?” louis asks his voice muffled into his hands. “i need to stop sleeping late.”

“c’mon loulou!” liam cheers.

“i’m so tired,” louis groans.

“one more exam then we’re done,” harry tells him then kisses his lips. “i’ll treat you for milkshakes later, if you want.”

“really?”

“hmm.”

**=     =     =     =**

exams are over!

and so comes the night of the junior sleepover in school. every semester the school holds a sleepover for each year to encourage bonding amongst the students and lately the principal added another theme to the school sleepover: reconciliation.

the privileged, the likes of liam, taylor and harry, are placed in the it block, while the less privileged, the likes of louis, trisha, and paul, are placed in the far end of the school in the humanities block. one then wonders what is the point of  a ‘bonding and reconciliation’ sleepover when students are separated because of their bank accounts and family names?

for one, the super rich kids complained. secondly, the parents of the wealthy spawns threatened to end school sleepovers. thirdly, the principal gave in because he saw the grand potential in school sleepovers.

harry spots mckenzie through a sea of students loudly chatting on their sleeping mats and bags, and wades his way through them. he sits beside her, his back to the white concrete wall.

“where’s chuck?” he asks her.

“he bailed, like always. what are you listening to?” harry takes out his ‘l’ earphone and gives mckenzie. “is this macklemore’s new album?” she asks once the sounds of macklemore the rapper play through harry’s earphones.

“yeah. louis said that this song has ed sheeran in it.” he momentarily beams at the mention of his boyfriend. “it’s a pretty sweet song. cute.”

“ed’s part is breathtaking!” they both listen to the song _growing up (sloane’s song)_ in silence until the five minutes are over. “is this the only song you have from his album?”

“yeah, why would i get his whole album? i don’t even like him.”

“because his album is sick! you should listen to _light tunnels_.”

“meh.”

“he’s coming to london next weekend and louis, trisha, liam and i are going to o2 arena for his concert,” mckenzie says, excitement evident on her face. “do you want to come? it’ll be sick!”

“i’d rather stick pins in my eyes,” harry drawls.

“you’re no fun… who is this playing?” she asks when macklemore stops playing and a new voice plays through.

“30 seconds to mars.”

mckenize stares at him, lifting an eyebrow. “you listen to 30 seconds? you only have beyoncéé and classical songs on your playlist and now suddenly, you have 30 seconds? _30 seconds?”_ she repeats not believing that harry has _other_ genres of music.

“i do listen to a range of music.”

“billboard 100 does not count.”

“i…” harry shuts his mouth.

mckenzie sticks out her tongue at him and he rolls his eyes playfully at her. they listen to a couple of songs off the album _love lust faith + dreams_ before one of the school coordinators announces that they shall be placed in groups and the last exercise of the night shall take place.

the coordinator reads out the different groups and harry’s heart sinks. his group members are straight from hell; at least he has mckenzie. their coordinator, ms cup (haley’s mother), declares that they shall be sharing their thoughts on friendships in school: the friends they have lost, gained, mended, and the lessons they have learned from their friendships.

“alright,” she says gazing around at the blank, emotionless faces staring back at her. honestly, why did she volunteer? with a maroon ball in between her hands, she states the instructions, “whoever has the ball in their hands is the only one who gets to talk, alright?” no one responds to her, not even a twinkle of the eyes. “so i’ll begin with… gigi.”

gigi catches the ball in her blue, gel nails. “so i  just talk about the friendships i’ve made?”

walking outside the small circle to what harry calls ‘group of hell’, ms cup answers, “yes. you can talk about pretty much anything as long as it is about the friendships within the school walls. we are trying to work along the theme of ‘bonding and reconciliation,’” she reminds them. to gigi, she says, “state what friendship means to you.”

gigi nods, turning back to the circle. “i don’t necessarily have a friendship quote but… i read a quote by sarah dessen who said, ‘life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend.’ i met my best friend when we were both at one of niall’s parties in freshman year,” – niall’s smirks grows with pride, – “and there was this huge buffet of nothing but pork. i, for one, don’t like pork. so i loudly told the chef, “not everyone loves bacon!” then this girl, with gorgeous long, black hair turns to me, surprise written all over face, saying, “what! you too? i thought i was the only one!” and that is the story of how kendall and i immediately became friends.

“since then, we’ve been through thick and thin. we share everything with each other,” she glows. as her gaze scans through the super rich faces of her circle, she narrates her friendship with kendall. “whether about boys, bitchy girls, shopping,” she squeals wildly, “concerts, hiking together, skinny dipping, midnight driving, mani-pedis, having a shoulder to cry on… i’m just extremely happy i have kendall in my life and i’m proud to say i consider her my sister, after bella, my actual sister.”

“impressive!” ms cup claps by herself. “that was beautifully said.” gigi throws the maroon ball at mckenzie. “mckenzie you’re up.”

“my friendship quotes comes from a movie that i don’t remember the name of but there was an old man who told a little boy, ‘it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up you your friends.’ the other one is from another movie, _shrek,_ and i quote: ‘only a true friend would be that truly honest.’

“my best friend in this entire world is harry styles.” the circle briefly turn their heads to harry standing straight with a blank look then back at a beaming mckenzie. “i wasn’t always what i am today and harry made me better. in middle school, i would always be getting into trouble for no reason, i loved the thrill. i continued this streak in high school in freshman year by getting mixed with the wrong crowd,” she briefly glances at taylor, “but on one of the nights when i was drunk, i drunkenly asked harry to have sex with me.”

harry snort-chuckles at the memory as mckenzie shortly shakes her head.

“did he?” asks tony.

“no,” she curtly responds. “he was the first guy to say no to me… _me!_ well, maybe because he had a girlfriend then but the girlfriend wasn’t that hot,” she sneers at taylor who huffs and crosses her arms below her breasts. “the following morning he told me not to do what i was doing, to stop getting drunk and that i was wasting my life away just because my parents were drunks and getting a divorce? he told me off and apparently what he told me everyone was thinking it but no one told me,” she glares at gigi who dutifully glances away.

when mckenzie does not add anything, ms cup asks if she is done. she shakes her head and continues to speak, words becoming hard to say aloud. “truth is, i was running away from home. i didn’t want to be in my house because of the problems in there. as a deal, harry said i could stay with him if i got my shit together. and ever since we’ve become tight. we can be as honest as we want to each other, the truth hurting a lot, but i know that at the end of the day we will still be friends.”

“brilliant,” ms cup cheers. niall takes three long strides to mckenzie, grabs the marron ball, and walks back to his spot near taylor. “alright niall, you’re up.”

“i’d like to talk about the friendships i’ve lost, tried to mend, but will always remain broken,” he says, ruthlessly staring at harry. “waqar ahmed said, ‘friendship is delicate as a glass, once broken it can be fixed but there will always be cracks.’”

his eyes do not waver from harry and his fingers dig into the ball. “my bestfriend from middle school was loved by everyone and i always wondered why. what was so special about him? so, one day i invited him to my party and i got to know him and i saw why everyone loved him.” his mouth turns upside down in a scowl. “but he wasn’t all that he was cracked to be. he was fake and he cared only about himself. in our world where people only care about themselves i thought he wouldn’t be like _them_ but he was.

“suddenly, i wasn’t good enough for him, he preferred other people to me. i was trash near him. he wanted friends who were powerful, rich; their fathers were big names in not only england but the world! the final straw came when he threw me under the bus last year. we had been partying, late at night, and the police came out of nowhere and busted us, finding cocaine on us. it wasn’t mine, but his,” he glares at harry who narrows his eyes, “and guess who took the blame for that? i did. the lawyers said i could be going to jail for nearly 25 years, my father’s name would be ruined, there was no way i could get out of this jail sentence… and it wasn’t even mine.

“who’s was it?” asks tony curiously.

“it wasn’t my heroin,” niall yells, “it was his heroin.” tony’s head snaps to where niall is shouting at but he is confused: it could be harry, could be mckenzie, could be… “it was his and he didn’t own up to it. not when my death sentence was being read, not when innocent people were going to jail, not when…” he inhales sharply. “my bestfriend was meant to be the nice one, the _kind one_ , the oh so loving one, but he was a pathetic coward… up until today, he still is. he isn’t brave, he is not kind. he is just selfish, always thinks about himself and he is the biggest hypocrite of all.”

“you’re an asshole!” mckenzie shouts at niall.

“he’s right!” taylor defends.

“alright alright,” ms cup intervenes, “i guess we’re all getting out of hand.” to niall she asks, “are you two friends?”

“no,” he answers quickly directing his answer at harry, “we’ve got cracks on our glass that recently smashed into tiny pieces that can’t be glued together.”

“you can get a new glass…” ms cup suggests. she is oblivious to whom niall is talking about, and even more oblivious to the evident glares and shots niall is firing at harry. “how about you forgive him for what he did?”

“you don’t get it, he does this all the time. when horrible things happen, he bails. he throws me under the bus and i have to clean his mess. but i was done, that was the final straw that night.”

“reconciliation does not take a day, niall, just like friendship. but what kills friendship, just like reconciliation, is the lack of dialogue, or conversation. have you tried that? have you tried talking to this—”

“i’m done talking about my broken friendship!” niall snaps at ms cups and shoves the ball to taylor.

ms cup nods at taylor. “alright, taylor, you’re up next.”

taylor’s red lips form a plastic smile and her cheery mode a little too much for the gloomy evening. “nicole richie once said that friends are like diamonds – bright, beautiful, valuable, and always in style. and diamonds are a girl’s bestfriend after all. my best friend, kate upton, is basically my other half! i love her to bits, even though she is sometimes a roaring bitch, i still love her.”

she throws the ball to ms cup who does not catch it. she turns around to pick it up and throws it back at taylor. “any friendships that have been broken, mended or made this year?”

“this year i found out my ex-boyfriend slept with kate last year but i’ve forgiven her for it,” she says quickly, masking her anger.

“what about your ex-boyfriend?”

“he never told me. i found out from _her_ about it.”

“i told you my ex-bestfriend isn’t a nice person,” niall intervenes, shooting harry scornful daggers.

“taylor has the ball, niall!” ms cup reminds niall. “but it’s been a year taylor, we must learn to forgive and forget.”

“in case you’ve forgotten, ms cup,” she cuts through her fixed smile, “i’m taylor waldorf and no one, i mean _no one_ , disrespects me and the waldorf name, even if it is the lowly.”

“yeah,” niall cheers. taylor throws the ball back at ms cup who immediately throws it back to her. “shouldn’t we move on? we have 10 minutes left before bedtime.”

“tell us more about kate upton.”

“she is a bitch.”

“where did you two meet?”

“niall’s party.”

“looks like niall’s party is the place to meet  each other,” ms cup hums. she catches taylor’s ball and throws it at harry. “you’re up harry.”

“martin luther king junior said that in the end we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. i used to think i had friends. last year, and the many years before, my friends were just like me; they were from the same type of family as me, the same rich background, the same lifestyles, values and whatnot. i thought they understood me, knew me, i even trusted their opinion because after all, they were my second family. i proudly called them my brothers, and sisters, when i really shouldn’t have.

“it’s no secret that i have been suicidal and the urge to… jump would often come to me like water seeping through a cracked hole. i wasn’t exactly happy. i was surrounded by people who didn’t understand me, people who cared more about money than laughing, wanted diamonds and watches than hugs and high-fives, wanted the latest guzzlers than explore london by foot, they would rather sit on white wooden chairs than on a blanket in the park… people whose world is nothing but pound signs.

“this year changed when i met my bestfriend. ed cunningham once said that friends are those rare people who ask how we are and then wait to hear the answer. my bestfriend was the first person who didn’t flinch when he found out i was suicidal. he wanted to know why i was, why i was so unhappy, what went wrong… at first i didn’t know and he didn’t run from me. he didn’t look at me with disgusted looks, frowning at me constantly, or shouting at me to, ‘be realistic!’

“my bestfriend knows that i get clumsy when it comes to stairs, so each time he’ll tell me, ‘watch your step.’ he will say, ‘here, drink this. you’ll feel better.’ when i feel sick, or have a cold. or when there are clothes in my closet i don’t wear anymore because people said they look hideous on me, he tells me, ‘it looks good on you.’ when he insists on something and i think it’s bothering him, he shuts me up by saying, ‘it doesn’t bother me.’ he reminds me constantly that i can share with him anything and at the same time, i don’t have to because he respects me. or when he obsessively gets worried when i drive at night, he asks if i have my seatbelt on, if i’ve looked both ways and to text him when i get home, which to be honest nobody cares if i drive on the road at 2am, sober, tipsy or drunk. there are times he gets me these meaningful presents and i ask him what the occasion is, or why, and all he says is ‘no reason.’ because really you don’t need a reason to give gifts to someone you cherish, it comes from the heart.”

“what did he get you?” asks tony.

harry lifts the crown ring tied to his silver necklace from underneath his flowery shirt. “he got me this crown ring some months back.”

“cool!” tony glees.

harry ducks his head, shyly smiling at the ball in his hands. “or my favorite when he says, ‘i believe in you.’ even if it feels like the world is crushing on my shoulders. i guess what i’m trying to say is that all i ever wanted was someone to listen to me, understand me, and that’s my bestfriend louis.”

“adorable!” gigi coos.

“aww louis!” mckenzie gushes.

“relationship goals!”

“it’s friendship, tony,” ms cup corrects. “that’s a beautiful friendship, harry.”

“they’re dating dumbass!” niall snaps.

“are you dating your bestfriend?”

“yeah… yeah, i guess i am.” harry throws the ball to tony but taylor stands in front of him and catches the ball.

“my turn again,” taylor shoots. “why louis of all people? what is so special about him that makes him different and, oh so desirable?”

“for one, he didn’t leave me when he found me standing on my the rooftop of my house. he reminds me every day that i’m not alone—”

“we were here for you at your lowest yet you pushed us all away,” taylor accuses.

“when?” harry shouts back. “when were you there for me? the first time i got arrested for drunk driving? when i got my rejection letter from harvard? when i almost got raped by barbara?” the circle gasps, this is new information. harry, however, continues, not skipping a beat. “or was it when i swore that i was going to kill myself, finally i was going through with it? maybe it was when my father elected niall as part of the board instead of his own children? or maybe it was when i cried myself to sleep for nights on end? i know you all knew, you whispered behind your backs, but you didn’t even care.”

“sometimes you’re such a big baby, honestly!” taylor groans, shoving the ball to niall’s hip. “we all grew up harry, didn’t you get the memo? you want to know why dr styles appointed niall as the heir to your family’s company? it’s because niall’s mature. he’s better than you in every way. you’re stuck in some past that—”

“all i wanted was happiness, sorry if i did that on my own without my friends,” he spits the last word.

“you have no friends!” ben cuts in.

“he does,” gigi shrieks angrily, slapping ben on the arm.

“like who?” niall snorts. “louis? _please!_ he’s not a friend.”

“he is!” harry yell-growls and the circle are taken aback. “he’s much more than what you were to me! did you know last month he took me to the london symphony? yeah, he did. none of you even bothered to know that i like classical music. for years i’d talk about it, i’d get excited about it and what do you all do? shut me down. cut me. i know he hates classical music, but louis took me to the symphony, he dressed up in a suit and he hates them with a passion, but the dressed up that night. he sat through it all. _the entire bloody show_. he asked me why i liked classical music, why i’d rather listen to bach in bed than nicki min _someone_ on a friday afternoon, what makes beethoven one of the best pianist in history. he did that all. for. me.

“but all you do is make me a business deal because really, why don’t we take advantage of harry’s kindness and trash it? he has a a lot of it anyhow!” he mocks all of them.

“get over that harry,” taylor drawls. “like i said, you’re a pathetic baby. you know how in our world it is all about being the most powerful, nothing about love. marriages are business deals, just like relationships.”

“sometimes all of you make me wish i wasn’t born!” harry screams. he wails, “i just want to be happy.”

“and you are genius.” mckenzie holds his shoulder firmly. “you’ve taught us that money isn’t everything. while it helps, it isn’t everything.”

taylor and niall scoff. “yeah right mckenzie,” taylor laughs at her. niall adds, “money is everything.”

“it’s not.”

“you know what you are harry?” niall asks rhetorically, taking slow steps to harry and standing just before him. “you’re  a traitor. you went ahead and started associating with the lowly of tomlinson’s all because you wanted pathetic friendships? you’re dating that loser now which is a disgrace because honestly, you cannot taint the styles name any more. i’ll bring the styles’ name its glory that it always had,” he gives him a once-over, “bring it back from its dog days.”

“dog days is right!”

“i think it’s time for bed,” harry huffs and turns on his heels heading away from the circle of hell. he stomps his foot all the way to the spare computer lab that is not used anymore ever since the school upgraded all its computers. including the systems.

there is one mistake people make about harry and it is that he is cunning. very. only when he needs be. he does not like the trait, as it reminds him of his fake friends. he made a promise to gemma last year that he would not sink as low as his fake friends do, he would rise above them and be the better man. sometimes it gets hard to and he loses control, like the barbara-tattoo incident. that was horrific.

another surprising thing that people do not know is about the hacker’s 10. these are the list of people who are, or were, the best hackers last year. the names are liam, niall, zayn, olivia, nick, ryan, john, melinda, shaunda, and kendall. what people forget is that harry’s name is on the list but he shrewdly removed his name from the list – somehow.

so why did he not change his schedule to normal that time zayn had been changing his and louis’ schedules? he made a promise to gemma to never sink as low as his fake friends.

he logs, nay hacks into the school system using his hacking name. he types niall horan and niall’s file appears before him on the screen. he skims through it, searching for something specific… _ah_ , there it is! he knew it! he knew it was not zayn that hacked into the school system and changed his schedule. it was niall.

it is always niall.

he types a few letters onto niall’s file, changes a few codes on zayn’s file, then erases his history of hacking into the system in such a way he cannot be traced (he is the only who perfected it)(along with ryan)(how else did harry know how do to do it than to sex it out of him?).

he shuts down the computer. as he waits for it to shut down completely, he texts his boyfriend:

 **HARRY:** *attached music file 4.7MB*

 **HARRY:** It’s “For Unto Us A Child Is Born” by G. F. Handel. It’s an amazing song. Sounds very churchy… thought you might like it.

 **HARRY:** Have you slept yet?

 **LOUIS:** Nah. We’re watching TARZAN :D

 **HARRY:** Sick!

 **LOUIS:** I know the song, not the classical version though. Is it choir-y?

 **HARRY:** Choir-y? LOL

 **LOUIS:** Yeah ;p

 **LOUIS:** How did your session go?

 **HARRY:** Horrible.

 **LOUIS:** I’m sorry butterly ]:

 **LOUIS:** What happened?

 **HARRY:** Talk before bed?

 **LOUIS:** Sure. Whale you *blows air heart shapes at your greasy hair*

 **HARRY:** I whale you too.

 **HARRY** : I don’t have GREASY HAIR! MY HAIR WAS WASHED YESTERDAY.

he pockets back his phone. thankfully the computer has also shut down completely. it is now just a matter of time, he glees mischievously.  

he walks back to the hall whereby they shall be sleeping for the night. he ignores the curious looks on people’s faces, knowing full well why they are staring. what must have been uttered during the session with ms cup has been made known to everyone. he plops down near mckenzie.

“where’ve you been?”

“i need you to cover for me,” harry requests. mckenzie arches an eyebrow with interest. “think of it like our adventurous adventures but you’re helping me do something i’m not allowed to do.”

“i’m in!”

“you haven’t heard my plan!”

“i don’t care. i love sneaky, cheeky harry.”

“what is cheeky harry doing?” asks gigi literally appearing out of nowhere. oh how he misses when she was obsessed with her then boyfriend zayn and spent her every waking hour with him.

“well.” now that she is here, and he really wants to make his plan work, he includes her. “i want to sneak into the humanities block so that i can see louis before bed.” the two girls stare blankly at him. was his plan so anti-climatic?

“that’s all?” inquires gigi, hoping he has something to add.

“well, we’re not allowed to go to the other side of the school whenever we have sleepovers—”

“—apart from liam—”

“apart from liam,” harry agrees.  “so i want to and i need lookouts, that’s where you two come in. we’ll walk to the humanities block—”

“—cause driving seemed like a better option?” asks gigi sarcastically.

harry rolls his eyes. “that’s where you two shall keep guard in case one of the securities are lurking around. then give me like 15 minutes then we head back.”

“when are we sneaking out?” asks mckenzie.

“as soon as we all go to bed.”

mckenzie, gigi and harry all nod at each other. the plan seems simple. the principal announces that it is time to go to bed and lights out in exactly five minutes. 15 minutes, the trio slip out of their sleeping bags in their pjs, and tiptoe their way out of the it block.

“did you have to wear yellow?” whispers harry to gigi at her bright spongebob pjs. “we’re trying not to get caught in case you didn’t get the memo.”

“kendall brought these for me tonight, was i _not_ to wear them?”

“move along _girls_ we haven’t got all night,” mckenzie huffs already walking towards the science block. harry rolls his eyes and follows mckenzie, gigi jogging to catch up. he pockets out his phone and texts louis:

 **HARRY:** What are you doing?

 **LOUIS:** Missin you sugar tits.

 **HARRY:** Sugar tits?

 **LOUIS:** AHAHAHHAHA YOU DO HAVE SUGARY NIPPLES

 **HARRY:** /internally groans/

 **HARRY:** Are you sleepy?

 **LOUIS:** We’re about to go to bed. I’m lining up waiting to brush my teeth.

 **LOUIS:** Liam says HI. Trisha says thanks for the silk PJs you brought for her today.

 **HARRY:** Say hi back to Li & blow a kiss to Trish for me. Text later.

 **LOUIS:** OK.

“they’re about to go to bed,” harry announces. they have already crossed the courtyard, four more blocks to get to their destination.

“i’m so cold!” gigi whines.

“didn’t you have a jacket?” wonders harry. he glances to his right, then left, watching out for any guards walking around school.

“no, because i didn’t think july would be cold at _night_.”

“hide!” mckenzie hisses and the trio press their backs against the wall of the creative block. a guard walks past them and takes a left. “that was close. keep close to me or else we’ll be caught.”

“ay, ay, cap’n!”

they make their way to the science block by evading more guards at only 28 minutes, when it would have taken them a mere 10 minutes.

“it’s locked!”

“no shit, sherlock!” harry rolls his eyes. _why, oh why, did zigi have to break up?_ he internally moans. “where is zayn, b.t.w?”

“suspension.”

“how do we get in?” asks harry.

“the back,” mckenzie hisses.

“how?” before the letters can leave his mouth, she has disappeared behind the wall and he wants to shout her name but suddenly a guard appears out of nowhere. he pulls gigi’s arm and they run forward, out in the open. harry looks back, does not see the guard, and runs forward again, running further away from the science block entrance that mckenzie had informed them of earlier.

“what now?” hisses gigi, her chest moving up and down rapidly.

“we have to get back,” he points to where they have ran from, “that was the only way through the back. if we keep moving forward,” he points to where they were running to, “we’ll be heading to the languages block.”

“the school seems larger at night.”

“nah, it’s only because we’re lazy, rich kids who never hit the gym but manage to look stunning. now c’mon, let’s go back.” just then his pocket buzzes. it’s a text from mckenzie. “she says that the back door is open. let’s go.”

“if i got a pound for every time i heard that…” gigi giggles. harry laughs through his nose and then leads the way to the back of the science block while watching out for guards.

“where did you guys go to?” hisses mckenzie.

“you don’t need to whisper,k,” harry says, increasing the octave of his voice purposely.

“to be on the safe side,” gigi whispers standing behind him. mckenzie nods at harry. “see?”

“fine, whatever. let’s just find the stupid room they are in.”

“what room?”

“louis has no idea what room they are in,” harry groans. under his breath, he says, “typical louis.”

“hasn’t be been in this school for months, he should know his way around.”

“that’s louis for you. if he is lost in a new city, he’ll be lost until someone asks him if he’d like a map. he has too much of an ego to asks for directions.”

“how about we try the geography floor?” mckenzie suggests. the two nod, gigi grateful she is not feeling cold anymore and harry loving the thrill of sneaking around school at night. this feels exactly like the adventures he has with mckenzie when they drive around london doing mischievous things.

“this floor is empty,” mckenzie announces, harry blinking away from his nostalgia and excitement. “we go up again.”

“how far do you think they—”

“you there!”

a voice stops gigi from asking where louis’ group of the “less privilege” are by a security guard. the trio split in three, mckenzie makes a sharp right turn, harry runs backwards and gigi makes the left turn. harry keeps running, his feet moving so fast he feels like he is running a marathon at the olympics. he turns left and enters the girls bathroom – he is in a rush, after all, not time to look for a _boys_ bathroom.

thankfully, there is no one inside and it is dark. he sits down on the floor, listening for any movements outside the door to the bathroom. after some seconds, he pockets out his phone and spam texts louis.

 **HARRY:** I want to sleep with you.

 **HARRY:** Or next to you.

 **HARRY:** I just want to lay in your bed together and talk and laugh about silly things (like always) and personal thoughts that you share with me alone.

 **HARRY:** I guess I just want to be with you.

 **HARRY:** So much that I dragged K and Gigi to the Humanities block and we are looking for where you’ve all been placed for the sleepover.

 **HARRY:** We were on the Geo. floor and there was a security guard walking round and now I’m in the GIRLS bathroom. I don’t know where K is, Gigi either, but I LOVE THIS. I LOVE THE THRILL, it’s stupid because I mean nearly everyone has tried sneaking in in school, at night, but not me.

 **HARRY:** THIS IS MY FIRST TIME.

 **HARRY:** AND I LOVE IT.

 **HARRY:** My heart is racing, my feet are trembling, I can barely type and my ears have never been EXTRA sensitive to noise (hoping I don’t get caught), and I’m sitting under the sink in the GIRLS bathroom!!

 **HARRY:** And do you know what song is playing in my head right now? The End Credits of Pirates of the Caribbean. YES IT’S ETCHED SOMEWHERE IN MY SUBCONCIOUS AND IM PLAYING IT IN MY HEAD.

 **HARRY:** Ah! K has texted me saying she is at the door of your Geography class but Gigi is not answering her texts!!

 **HARRY:** TTYL Tomlinson :D

harry pockets his phone back, hoping louis does not mind the huge spam of texts he has sent to his boyfriend. but can you blame him? he is running on adrenaline. he swiftly makes his way to louis’ geography class and locks the door behind him.

“k?” he whispers loudly at the dark room.

“here,” she whispers back from somewhere near the front of the classroom.

“where’s gigi?” asks harry when he finds mckenzie crouched behind a desk. he sits down next to her.

“i don’t know but let’s wait for her, i feel bad leaving her alone.”

harry nods. “this is exciting!”

“if we’re caught, we’re suspended, there’s nothing exciting about this,” mckenzie reminds harry.

“still,” harry shrugs, “there’s adrenaline rushing through me and i feel… alive.”

“this is what happens when styles stops throwing parties at his mansion and let’s niall do it,” mckenzie says dryly. she looks over the desk then back to harry. “if she is caught, she’ll snitch on us.”

her phone buzzes and she pockets it out. she reads it, chuckling lightly as she rolls her eyes. she points the phone at harry. it is a text from louis:

_keep my butterfly baby out of trouble! do you hear me? he’s insane, that one. do.not.let.him.get.suspended!!!!!!!!!!_

he smiles, louis called him “my butterfly baby”, and he can feel his cheeks bright red and his palms sweaty for some reason.

“what’s butterfly?” asks mckenzie curiously.

“his name for me,” harry blushes.

“odd. you are insane though, that i agree with. now c’mon, we’ve waited for too long, let’s look for her.”

they find their legs walking down the corridors, looking through each class to check for a blond head sticking out in the dark. the walk a lot, up the stairs, down the stairs, turning right, making left turns, in and out of bathrooms, and even janitor closets yet no sign of gigi anywhere. by sheer luck, they find the large room where the floor is covered with sleeping bags and sleeping students inside them.

mckenzie groans aloud after seeing the look in harry’s eyes. “you have 10 minutes with adidas boy or i’ll be dragging you out.”

harry glows, literally, in the dark, kisses her forehead between her bushy eyebrows, and makes his way into the large room. he however immediately turns around, mckenzie staring at him with confusion.

“he wouldn’t want me to see him when gigi is out there somewhere,” harry tells her. “let’s find gigi, and besides, i can’t let you suffer looking for her. i can see louis tomorrow at breakfast.”

 

 

at breakfast the next morning, all the junior, or third year, students are joined together for breakfast in the cafeteria. mckenzie and harry are in the line, pushing their trays along when they spot gigi walking across the cafeteria with a tray of food between her hands.

“that little bitch,” mckenzie curses. after getting their breakfast, they make their way to where gigi has sat down. “what the actual fook, gigi? we looked all over for you, until bloody 1am when we decide to go sleep!”

“thanks for leaving me,” she hisses at them both.

“we called you, we texted you, and we waited for you,” harry spits, “we looked all over the humanities block for you, checking every floor, checking every classroom—”

“—dodging security guards,” mckenzie harshly points out.

“dodging security guards yet you didn’t even bother to call us? let us know you’re fine? let us come back to the it block where we all are? did you not think that? not even a bloody text to say you went back by yourself?!”

“i was alone, scared, and i lost my phone,” gigi cries. “i was alone for hours and you two didn’t look for me.”

“where were you?” asks harry.

“doesn’t matter.”

mckenzie narrows her eyes at her, her bushy eyebrows looking more like a unibrow now. “you can at least tell us where you were since we’re all being honest. i was stuck in a geography class and harry in a girls bathroom.”

gigi arches an eyebrow at harry. “what?”

“where were you?” harry insists.

“doesn’t matter.”

“well, if you’re not truthful, there’s no reason for us to be here,” mckenzie says standing up and picking up her tray. harry follows and they leave her, sitting by herself on the table. they sits down near the large glass walls, overlooking the football pitch and the morning sun rising higher in the blue sky.

harry begins by open his yoghurt and mckenzie with her apple. they talk, mostly about where they shall be spending their summers seeing as they usually spend it together, along with liam, and zayn. last year, they were joined by taylor, niall, chuck bass, and the rest of the clique. how times have changed!

“how about rio for the olympics?”

“how about _no_!” harry shoots down the idea. “it’s going to be crowded, hot, sticky, and filled with american tourists. i don’t see why we can’t go to hong kong.”

“never. why not tokyo? it’s almost the same bloody thing.”

“never tokyo. father’s business is there. america is out as well, we’ve been there too many times. i feel like we should go somewhere we’ve never been.”

“jamaica?” asks mckenzie and harry’s teaspoon filled with blueberry yoghurt stops mid-air. “i’m joking.”

“i hope so!”

“fine, but anywhere i can be near a yacht and escape the fooking world, and the drama, and have lots of privacy,” mckenzie whines. “i’m so sick of everyone. i need an emergency vacation that will last me _centuries_.”

“fiji?” suggests harry. mckenzie squeals in delight and claps her hands twice. “i’m guessing we’ll be heading there then” mckenzie squeals again, pumping her hands in the air, then pressing her lipstick lips to his left cheek.

“hey!” liam sits near mckenzie, his tray of food laid in front of him. harry and mckenzie mumble their greetings. “why’s gigi sitting alone?”

“she’s a fooking wasp!” mckenzie hisses. “and she’s not coming with us to fiji.”

“who picked fiji for our holiday destination?” asks liam glaring at mckenzie. she then shifts her gaze to harry, liam micking the move. “why?”

“we need somewhere hot, somewhere new, somewhere we’ll be far from the world, and to be fair fiji is pretty far off the map,” harry defends. he undoes his second banana from the bottom and takes a inch of a bite. “would you have any other place?”

“st. barth’s?”

“ugh!” groans harry. “taylor and niall are going there for the summer. and now that gigi has officially been cancelled out of our summer trip, zayn is coming with us.”

“can he afford?” wonders mckenzie.

“i’m paying for him, don’t worry about that,” liam says kindly. “so it’s decided, this summer we’re in fiji!”

“three weeks of nothing but us without the world!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F.Y.I I CAN'T WAIT FOR PIRATES 5 TO COME OUT!! ONE MORE MONTH OF JOHNNY DEPP, SKELETON ANIMALS,ORLANDO BLOOM AGAIN AND finaaaaaaally there's going to be mroe than 1 animal on the movie huh!


	59. 0.58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the school dance is here... and drama follows.

** **

> **baby let me be good to you, good to you  
>  let me show you how proud i am to be yours**

this is it!

the last few days of school before everyone goes to exotic destinations for the summer. before the wealthy spawns can spend their parent’s plastic cards on everything they lay their eyes onto, the school is hosting a summer dance on thursday night.

seeing as there are no official classes going on (the teachers are busy marking their exam papers) the students are lazing around school, not much going on between them. by now, rumors and gossip has gone round about the fallout of gigi vs mckenzie and harry – the details? nobody cares about the truth, as always, just the fabricated lies.

and zayn is still suspended.

therefore, this afternoon liam and louis spend it playing football in the field, trisha and her minions watching from the bleachers as well as hearing taylor whine about how horrible gigi is as a friend and how gigi has always been a backstabber. serves her right for harry ending their friendship, she constantly drones over and over.

tonight, louis’ dad has been invited for a dinner party at his place of work (he is a dentist) and he has taken the entire family. louis makes up an excuse not to go, stomach bug. harry, later, comes over (with louis’ favorite car of his, the white matte lambo) and with him his are three extra-large curly fries bags and 2l of a coke bottle.

“hmm,” louis hums, munching on his curly fries layered with bbq sauce. his legs are stretched over harry’s thighs and on the tv is _new girl_ playing. the episode playing is the one where coach is taking cece on a date and schmidt, cece’s ex, is having a hard time accepting it.

“if i was taking cece out on a date i would be nervous too.”

harry takes a sip of his coke with cubes of ice in his glass. “am i the only one who does not find her hot?”

“yep,” louis adds more curly fries into his mouth, “i’ve never been to the staples centre.”

“who are you?” harry dramatically asks. he steals a curly fry from louis’ bag. “hmm, your bbq sauce is stronger.”

“switch.” louis takes harry’s bag of curly fries and switches it with his own. harry murmurs a ‘thank you,’ not minding that his (new) curly fries are _soaking_ in bbq sauce. “do you think schmidt is going to the staples centre and meet his true love, cece?”

“such a sappy weirdo,” harry rolls his eyes, “i hope he doesn’t make it so that he can learn to let go of cece and let her be happy with other men.”

“or he could make it and make her realize that she is happy with schmidt and not coach,” louis defends. “they are two people in love. their fate is written in the stars… oh look, he is going to a chocolate store to buy chocolates for cece.” he smirks at harry, “destiny.”

“dramatic!” harry drawls. “and f.y.i, cece and coach’s date is much worse than what ours was.”

“oh my gosh, styles,” he takes a bite of two curly fries, “moving on!”

“look at schmidt, being honest... he really loves cece, don’t you see that?”

“he cheated on her.”

“but he’s sorry about that. he’s been sorry for so many episodes and he’s making an effort… did he just ask jess to hit him with his car?” asks louis as the scene from _new girl_ shows nick asking jess, his roommate, to hit him with her car in order to stop him from taking chocolates to cece at the staples centre where is she on a date with coach.

“and he did!” harry bursts out laughing.

“she hit him with his car!” louis roars in fits of laughter.

“she really did,” harry laughs.

“oh fook! the police!”

“i’d be that police officer, he looks so done with jess and schmidt,” he laughs. the scene plays through and the following scene finds jess and schmidt in the car, jess’ having stopped schmidt from ruining cece’s date with coach.

“jess actually stopped destiny from happening.”

“it wasn’t destiny, it was ruining someone’s date and you need to realize that your turn is over with the girl you love.”

“at least schmidt admitted that he’s not fine,” louis sinks into the couch, “it was getting annoying how in denial he was.”

“are we not going to talk about the lady who drives a bus and her weird hamster pet?” wonders harry when the last scene of the episode plays and the credits roll.

“she can’t fooking paint either. did she really think that was a _boat_?” scoffs louis. “it looked like wine glasses on a plate!”

harry laughs loudly and his laugh is contagious, so contagious louis laughs as well. they’re both laughing, with half empty glasses of coke, curly fries with spots of bbq sauce around and someway everything _clicks_.

harry quickly takes off louis’ shirt above his head.

“all for me,” harry’s eyes rake down louis’ body, “all for me.” louis breath hitches when harry unbuttons his flowery shirt and exposes his toned abs, louis eyes filling with lust. his fingers reach out and sinfully touch down on harry’s hard-rock abs, then down on his happy trail.

“you haven’t shaved?” he asks.

harry looks down on louis’ finger pressing down on the hairs on his stomach. “you seem to love my happy trail, so i’ve not shaved, but i’ve trimmed the rest.”

“i do love it,” louis breathes.

harry wastes no time in kissing louis, his tongue dominating louis’ mouth. louis fists his fingers in harry’s greasy hair, their upper bodies sliding off each other.

“no mouth.” louis breaks their heated kiss. a flicker of disappointment flashes in harry’s eyes and it is gone when harry rejoins their lips. he tugs down on louis’ lip with his teeth, louis moaning in pain and pleasure. harry then kisses down on him, down his chin, running his teeth along his jaw with the little hairs on it that he loves so much and down his neckline.

he snakes his right hand around the curve of louis’ hips and the ends of his fingers fiddle with louis’ boxers hemline. “may i?” he asks. louis bites down on his lip, back on the carpet, his eyes scanning harry’s. they are intoxicatingly green, so precious, and… _careful_. he nods. not leaving each other’s gaze, harry slides down his hand down louis’ boxer shorts and deeper down between louis’ ass cheeks.

harry, with his hulk-like strength, lifts louis off the carpet with one hand, the other tucked between his ass cheeks. louis moans, his fingers tugging down on harry’s hair. “i’ll make you feel good,” harry moans, his voice extra husky.

“make me.”

harry sucks on his middle finger, slow and heavy, his eyes tense with louis whose eyes are fully blown in nothing but black. next, his fingers trail down and circle on louis’ pink hole. louis quicken his breath, harry hearing his low, hugged breath close to his hear. his finger trails inside of him stopping halfway as the muscle around louis tightens around his index finger.

“relax,” harry says softly. with his other hand holding louis to him, his thumb rubbing circles on the small of his back. “relax for me baby.”

“deeper.”

harry slides his middle finger all the way in but louis’ muscles do not relax around his finger, his muscles are tight on two of his fingers. the boy with his fingers down louis’ ass places wet kisses along louis’ shoulders, tasting the saltiness on his skin and the smell of lemon, the smell of louis.

louis half sits up, his entire arm around harry’s neck, the other digging its fingers into harry’s bicep. harry winces, kissing away the slight pain by pressing his lips to louis’ shoulder blade. as harry’s finger move inside him, exploring him, louis’ chest hits harry’s with his uneven breathing.

“louis.” harry cannot take the pain, feeling his neck pressed to louis chest. “louis… louis!”

louis panics. he grabs harry’s arm and removes it from him and, getting to his feet, he takes two steps back from him, his back hitting the wall. harry stares at him, absentmindedly wiping his finger on his jeans. louis’ eyes are brimming, harry’s eyes darting between them, wondering what went wrong. what _is_ wrong?

“louis?”

louis shakes his head, reaching down for his jeans. he grabs it before harry can to give it to him.

“louis, please,” harry pleads. louis shakes his head, his mouth curled downward letting out large gasps of air, his eyes flooded but cheeks dry.

“louis, what’s going on?” harry asks, his voice soft and full of concern. “please tell me.”

“i… i’m sorry. i’m so sorry,” he cries. he fumbles with his shirt, finding the sleeves. his brimming eyes let go and trail down his cheeks. harry’s eyes widen in alarm. louis is still fumbling with his shirt, now looking for the hole to slip his head through. “i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i’m sorry.”

“what did i do, angel? please tell me.”

louis shakes his head, some of his tears flying away to his sides. harry gingerly steps forward and helps louis pull his head over his shirt. he then covers his eyes and cheeks with his tiny hands and harry’s hand stretches to him, then draws it back.

“can i hug you?” he asks pleadingly unable to watch him cry in front of him for something he might have caused. “please?”

louis nods behind his hands and harry rushes quickly and wraps his warm hands around his body. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, harry.”

“don’t be, angel.” he palms louis’ hair and his other hand holding him, squeezing his waist. “don’t be. it’s not your fault.”

“but it is,” louis cries, pushing harry away from him, “you’ve been nothing but good to me and i’m just selfish. anyone, literally anyone, would have sex with you because you’re good. you’re good with your hands, your fingers, your kisses, and your blood moans and… lips, oh fook me, your lips are delicious but me?”

harry frowns. “what are you talking about?”

“you sound so good when you have sex, when you moan, grunt, fook, your sex voice is to die for.” had louis not been crying saying these words, harry would have been turned on. right now he is concerned, and hearing louis’ choked words behind his sobs makes his insides sink. “but mine is terrible.”

“i’ve heard you…”

“have you?” questions louis. to be honest, he has never heard louis’ screams or moans when he makes him feel good, when his fingers are inside him, when his tongue sucks the life out of him. he always bites down on his lip stifling his moans, or bite down on his knuckles silencing everything.

“noo…” harry trails. “but not everyone _screams_ …”

“my last boyfriend, zedd, told me outright that i sounded like a girl when i come. just because my scream is higher pitched than what a guy’s should me. everything was alright, leading up to the moment, and i screamed,” he chokes on a sob, “i screamed and he laughed. he fooking laughed at me. do you know how that made me feel? it made me feel pathetic, little, mortified and less of what i am. i was at my most vulnerable and i was laughed at.

“then there was,” louis sobs mumbling a name harry does not hear, “who was the same as zedd. i was just out of my relationship with max and had not had sex in a long time so i cummed really fast. he hated how i moaned, how i screamed, he hated me, saying that it was like having sex with a _girl_. if he wanted sex with a girl he should’ve picked eleanor instead of me. why? the same reason that zedd told me. that’s why i don’t moan, why i don’t scream, why you never hear me… i don’t want you to leave because mhmm—”

harry crushes his on louis, shutting him up immediately. “i don’t care what other people have told you but i want to hear _you_ —”

“—you say that now—”

“—because any sound that you make, whether it’s your thick yorkshire accent, your laughter, your snorts, your husky voice that tells me you’re a little turned on,” he chuckles lowly and louis instantly blushes, “that you don’t realize you have and so many more, are all my favorites. but on that list i want to hear your sex voice, no matter what you think it sounds like, i want to hear it.” he brushes his lips on louis’ ear, “i want you hear you moan, scream my name, the hitches your breath makes when i touch you right and your muffled curse words when you’re about to come…  i want to hear _all_ of it,” he faces louis, “because i know i’m doing something right.” he sheepishly smiles, “also because all of you is beautiful. all of me whales all of you.”

louis’ glassy eyes flicker between harry’s sincere, and strong ones, and he blinks clearing his vision. “you’re going to regret it.”

“no. all of me whales all of you,” he repeats and louis’ lips part, “ _all_ of you, every inch, every sound, from head to toe.” louis nods, and harry’s sighs internally.

“c-can we ju-just sit and wat-watch a movie?”

“of course,” harry glees.

“you don’t mind?”

“why would i?”

“i don’t know really.”

“i’m sorry about zedd and the rest,” harry says. louis is sat in between his legs, and his head laying on harry’s broad shoulders. his hands are wrapped around louis’ middle, and louis fingers threaded between his. “zedd was wrong because i love your voice, no matter how high or low it is, and the rest will never know the pleasures i get when you get all hot and heavy because of me. they were wrong, completely wrong.” louis does not say anything but nuzzles harry’s neck. “and it doesn’t matter if everyone wants to have sex with me, what matters is if you want to. you’re timeless to me, angel.”

“how come you never told me about my turned on voice?’ louis asks, thankful harry cannot see him being all hot and flustered.

“my secret,” harry hums. then kisses behind his ear.

“hmm.”

“louis?”

“hmm?”

“i whale you.” louis twists his head round and gazes up at his boyfriend. he undoes his fingers from harry, reaches up, and cups his blushing cheek. he shifts on top of harry and sits on the back of his legs. “i whale you,” harry repeats breathlessly.

“i whale you.” his lips barely brush his and louis finds his lips chasing harry’s.

harry smirks at louis’ pout. “and to show you, i’ll be taking you to the school dance.”

“really? because i already said yes to david beckham.

“cancel.”

“is this you proposing to me?”

“it’s not. i’ve got some ideas,” grins harry, “be prepared.”

“nothing flashy.” harry’s face falls. “you had something flashy planned?”

“not exactly,” harry says scratching he back of his head. “just… a little over the top, according to you.”

“nothing too much then,” says louis sternly.

“deal. can’t wait.”

 

 

truth is, harry puts a lot of thought into how he is going to ask louis to be his date for the summer dance. also, there is a competition on who is the most creative in asking their dates for the dance and harry wants to be the best of the best, making everyone play for seconds.

first, he gets the code from louis for his locker combination (he changed it, the 19th time this semester as he keeps forgetting it)(it is 0201) and one of the housekeepers of the styles’ mansion, pours out three boxes filled with red and white petals into his boyfriend’s locker. watching from the corner, harry watches louis walk to his locker, that nick guy from the football team walking by his side, open it and the petals fall by his feet.

louis does not approve.

second try, harry manages to round up a number of students, surprisingly, or not surprisingly, most of them are girls, to sit in the bleachers during lunch time when the football team practices. he instructs the girls to wear white jackets and bright, red shirts and to line themselves up in the form of a love heart. the moment comes when louis has finished practicing and nick (oh, harry is starting not to like this nick bloke) points to the bleachers and hurriedly do their skit. the entire heart is in white (the girls and boys have their jackets on) and soon, each line of the heart turns to red, the girls (and boys) taking off their jackets. soon, each row takes off their jackets until the person in the middle, that being harry, is left in his white jacket. the entire heart is red  with a white dot in the middle of it.

louis does not approve.

harry is not one to give up. plus, he is by far the winner of the most creative way to ask one for the summer dance as the rest of the school are clearly not as _dramatic_ as he is. he manages to get balloons with letters of louis’ first name out in the open where he can see it easily when louis’ first walks into school: the school entrance. covering louis’ eyes, harry walks with him to where the letters are and uncovers his eyes yelling, “surprise!”

“is that _lois_?” asks louis reading the balloon letters. harry turns around and oh no, the “u” has flown away. damn his chauffer for not sticking the damn balloons properly to the ground.

“lois!” nick laughs loudly. harry officially _dislikes_ nick.

“nice try, styles,” louis laughs, patting his back. “you could give up and let me ask _you_ to the summer dance.”

“no!” harry shoots. “never. plus i need to win the most creative at the dance.”

“suit yourself,” louis kisses his lips softly before walking off to class (with nick no less, harry groans).

harry loves a challenge, for sure, and he is not giving up on thinking of more creative ways to ask louis to be his date for the summer dance. he gains access, after asking kendall for a way in, to the school tv and he broadcasts his invitation to louis on asking him to take him to be his date for the summer dance. he goes further and makes sure that in the background, the beautiful piano sounds of beethoven’s   _für elise_ that louis can play on the cello (therefore louis will recognize it)(harry hopes).

louis says no.

and harry gets detention after school for inappropriately using school property. with kendall.

“how do you ask someone like louis to dance when all he wants is something _simple_?” sulks harry at lunch time.

“how about you just ask him?” suggests liam, “simple as that!”

“i’m not basic, li!”

liam rolls his eyes. he stabs his roasted potato, dips it in rose-colored dressing and munches on it. “you’re thinking too much about this! just ask him, ‘louis, will you be my date for the summer dance?’ and he’ll say, ‘yes.’”

“terrible idea,” harry mutters, chewing on his chicken salad.

however, harry cannot help but think the reason why louis is saying no is because his actions are rather over the top, even if _he_ cannot see it. and besides, he is on his way to winning the most creative way to asking someone to be their summer dance date.

“c’mon, we have english,” liam says as the bell for the next class rings and lunch is over.

“lemme grab a coke first,” harry says and they stop by the soda vending machine. “do you want sod— _oh!_ how could i not—of _course!_ ”

“what?”

“that’s it!” harry glees, a light bulb shining bright above his head. “of course. i wasn’t listening, louis wants something _normal_ not over the top.”

“that’s what i’ve been saying,” liam mutters pressing the sprite button on the vending machine. “let’s go—”

harry holds him by the shoulder and his finger is pressed to the window of the vending machine. “have you seen the coke advert where this one guy wants to ask this girl to be his girlfriend but she keeps saying no? then eventually he gives her a coke bottle with the words ‘hello’ on it?” liam opens his can of sprite. “i can do the same thing. i just need to somehow get the words, ‘will you take me to the dance?’ printed on it.”

“oh!” liam swallows his sprite. “that’s actually a good idea. creative, and not over the top.”

“right?”

“so, how will you print those words on a coke bottle?”

harry sighs, leaning his head on the vending machine. “i don’t know. the coke bottles in this vending machine only have one word like ‘hello’, ‘cool’, ‘awesome’, ‘sunday’, ‘easter’,’ yes’, ‘friends forever’, ‘boyfriend?’ which would’ve been cool to use if i asked louis to be my boyfriend.”

“i know a guy…” liam trails off. harry’s head jerks away from the machine and looks at him, hopeful. turns out liam, rather mrs payne, knows someone who knows someone who works in the coca cola factory and they can customize coke bottles… free of charge for the payne family.

the next day, bright and early before the 8 o’clock classes, harry, or rather one of his housekeepers, is carrying eight, 500ml cans of coke in his bag to present to louis as his way of asking louis to be his date for the summer school dance. he places each can on the ground by louis’ locker, and each can containing on the words: _will u take me to the dance? –hxx_

“do you think he’ll like it?” asks harry, taking a step back to look at his work. plastered on louis locker is a huge, red arrow sign bordered with glitter pointing down to the ground where he has laid the eight cans of coke.

“where did you find glitter?” liam begins to laugh upon noticing that there is about an inch of glitter on the arrow sign.

“it’s not over the top is it?” harry asks worriedly. “maybe the cans of coke are too much…”

“eight is a lot.” harry groans raking his hand through his hair. “but,” liam comforts him by placing a hand on his back, “he’ll love it. it’s cute. plus, he loves coke doesn’t he?”

“adores it. now c’mon, let’s go, we have italian and the languages block is kilometres away.”

harry has been on the edge of his seat since his italian class, double chemistry, that stupid p.e. lesson where they had to play basketball… honestly, why don’t they re-introduce swimming? lunch time louis had football practice and he could not get a word out of trisha if louis liked it or not… and she was drinking the “dance” coke can so he definitely knows trisha was there with louis when he saw the cans in the morning.

he decides, right after lunch, to head for mrs math’s class 10 minutes early and wait for louis’ response. honestly, he has never been nervous for a reply. or anything in his life. not even when he was waiting to know if columbia university accepted him or not.

“can’t believe i’m in detention with you,” kendall sighs, sitting in the row in front of him.

“how did they know it was you that let me—”

“i’m the only one in this school who has access to the school tvs,” kendall says dryly. her eyes shift to harry’s forehead and her mouth snarls in disgust. “why are you sweating?”

“huh?” he wipes his forehead with the back of his shirtsleeve and it is moist. “i’m waiting for an answer from louis.”

“oh, the coke thing?”

“how did you know?” he asks curiously, his eyes leaving the door for the first time in the conversation.

“everybody knows. it’s not every day you see a bunch of coke cans on the ground and an arrow sign with glitter,” she giggles. “where did you get the glitter?”

“why does everyone keep asking me that?”

two-thirty (mrs maths late, as always) reaches and class begins. without louis. harry begins to wonder where louis could be. he turns to trisha, sitting opposite him and passes her a note asking where louis is. she looks up and shrugs, mouthing, ‘football practice probably.’ he turns his attention to mrs maths talking about charles bukowski’s _the people look like flowers at last_ poem and louis rushes in class, tom and niall trailing behind, all three breathless.

“late again, tom?” cries mrs maths.

“football practice took longer than usual,” explains louis.

“aren’t you the captain?” asks mrs maths, her eyes peering through her thick glasses.

“yes, mrs maths,” louis says promptly, still catching his breath. mrs maths sighs, and waves her hand at the three of them, dismissing them. louis murmurs a, ‘thank you’ while niall shoves past him to take the seat by taylor.

as louis approaches, harry’s pulse shoots through the roof, his lips parted slightly. the moments that louis takes to sit down, take out his textbooks and a single sheet of paper (harry shakes his head in amusement), _and_ pull his chair closer to the edge of the table are agonizing for harry. he wants to know what louis says. and to be fair, he is running out of ideas and he is even entertaining the thought of simply asking louis to be his date… like a basic person. _like liam._

louis does nothing but listen to mrs maths the entire lesson, going on and on about _the people look like flowers at last_ being bukowski’s finest poems. harry ties his hair up in a bun, unties it, then ties it again. he taps the table with his fingers, he clicks his pen often (trisha, sitting two, three rows behind him, hissing at him to stop because it is annoying), he turns his head to louis who is focused on mrs math’s.

he cannot do this!

he writes a note on a piece of paper asking what louis’ answer is. louis reads the note, and stuffs it in his pocket. a smirk spreads on his lips and harry groans internally. he unties his hair and ties it tighter into a bun. he stretches his hands out in front of his, his biceps flexing. he gets a dirty idea and he knows it will break louis’ secretive answer.

he slowly, but surely, unbuttons his third button for his classy, ysl shirt. from the corner of his eye he can see louis’ lip right lip tug upward. he unbuttons the following one and the next and now his swallow tattoos and his crown ring necklace are exposed. louis quickly looks harry’s way, then back at the front of the class that is blocked by a few, super rich kids’ heads. harry smiles to himself but puts on the face, the face louis get turned on from 0 – 90. he continues to unbutton his shirt, taking his sweet time and by the time he reaches the last button louis is blatantly staring.

 _good_ , he thinks.

mrs maths turns to the board, writing something on the whiteboard. harry does not unbutton the last button but no matter, louis can see everything: his abs of steel, his toned chest, the _stupid_ butterfly tattoo, and ridiculous _leaves_ tattoo that he does not know why he got, the white hemline of his white calvin klein boxers, and not forgetting his happy trail that right now louis would love to run his tongue along.

harry trails his index finger on the inside of his thigh, beginning from his knee. he gives louis a quick sideways glance, smirks at a jaw-clenched louis, and continues teasing him. he enjoys it more when he widens his legs, and his finger slides to the inner most part of his thigh and stops on top of his crotch. he draws a circle on top of it and louis does not look at what harry does next.

louis shifts in his seat as all the blood suddenly pools between his legs. a few, _long_ seconds pass, him trying to catch his breath and feel his crotch stretch tightly against his skinny jeans, and his eyes are drawn back to harry. harry’s index finger trails along his bottom, plump lip, seductively so. louis gaze drops to harry’s crotch covered in harry’s big hands. distratingly, harry’s index finger pulls down on his bottom lip, exposing his white colgate teeth. next, his thick tongue licks down on his finger before swallowing the whole of it.

louis gasps. loudly. the students sat in front of him, one of them kendall, both turn at the same time and he concentrates hard on what mrs maths is writing on the board. involuntarily, his eyes are back on harry, so addicting his boyfriend is, more so harry’s mouth around his finger. he leans in absentmindedly as harry cups his own crotch, pressing down on it and _oh!_ his throbbing cock pressed to his jeans is begging to be touched, too. harry turns his finger pointing it at a gun-like position and runs his tongue up on it and softly using his teeth his finger disappears into his dirty mouth.

harry stops, louis not giving up! all he is getting is a hard on… and from the corner of his eyes, so is louis. covering his growing smile with his right palm, he cups louis’ thigh. louis jerks his leg to harry’s touch, his head ducking down to see harry’s hand covering his thigh. he looks up to catch harry’s gaze.

“what’s your answer?” he mouths. louis presses his lips, not saying anything. so be it, harry accepts. he is going to make louis cower.

he slides his fingers to louis’ inner thigh, his eyes studying the board filled with notes that neither of the two have been writing. he squeezes louis upper part of his thigh then with his thumb, draws circles on his thigh. louis shifts uncomfortably, his skinny jeans growing tighter and tighter by the second. harry runs his hand up louis’ thigh, slowly and watching louis sweating on his forehead.

louis can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.  but for the love of him, he does not want harry to stop. he has never done this before, especially in class, especially in class filled with students, especially in class with a  teacher! he guides harry’s hand to the tent in his jeans, and presses on it. harry’s lip part slightly with his eyes blowing wide open for a split second. he feels around louis’ bulge, his _large_ tent, loving the effect he has on louis. he bites down on his lip then presses hard on louis bulge.

louis deeply groans but muffles it quickly by covering his mouth with his hand. he swallows. this is getting hard, pun intended. he slides down on his seat, giving harry’s large hand easier access. bad idea. harry palms him, rubbing him through his jeans and louis prevents himself from throwing his head back and releasing a moan that has been roaring up in his stomach.

harry unbuttons his jean, and carefully, with a smirk on his lips, unzips his zipper… and the bell rings.

“alright, that will be all for today,” mrs maths announces. harry retracts his hand and louis slides his seat completely underneath the table his stomach is pressed to the edge of it. “i want a two page analysis on the poem we’ve been discussing today to be emailed by tomorrow midnight.”

“but tomorrow’s the dance!” whines a student sitting at the front.

“no buts!” mrs maths cries back. the students all get up to leave class, happy that this is the last lesson for the semester! finally.

“aren’t you leaving?” trisha eyes harry suspiciously. she glances at louis who is tight-lipped and looking elsewhere but at trisha and harry.

“i’ll meet you in a sec, i need to tell louis something,” harry says to her, hoping she will leave.

“you promised me shopping at the mall for my dress remember?”

“of course, we are going shopping,” harry glees, “but at 5 because i have detention with kendall,” he rolls his eyes, “so i’ll be a little late.”

“no worries, i can work on my poem analysis in the library till then.”

finally, she leaves, bidding louis goodbye and it is just the two of them. “so what’s your answer?”

louis reaches into his bag and pulls out a 500ml coke can with the word, in white, ‘yes.’ harry beams wrapping his arms around louis.

“you’re such a fooking tease, yknow that?” groans louis.

“you look beautiful when you’re hot and heavy,” he smiles. he effortlessly pulls louis’ chair from underneath the table exposing louis tent underneath his red briefs. “because of me.”

“you and your stupid abs, and stupid leaves tattoos, and your glorious hair, and lips and fing—”

harry stops him from talking as he smashes his lips with his own. he missed the taste of louis he really did, and lately he has been missing _all_ of louis. he misses louis’ moans, groans, and hearing his name breathless between louis’ lips. louis moans into the kiss when harry grinds down on him, hard. knowing what louis will say, and no matter how much he does not want to use his hand, he does. he gets louis off using his hand and like always, louis bites onto his knuckles when he gets his high.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

the dance is here!

it has been for four hours and by now the jackets are off, the shirts are clinging to sweaty backs, the heels are off, and all the hair swaying to the music. the dances have been sick, a circle had been formed as students who thought they were the best at dancing, partook in it, including liam and harry. liam won.

“aw c’mon, don’t look so glum, chum,” mckenzie laughs, handing harry a drink laced with vodka. “here, you need this.”

“can’t believe this school doesn’t allow champagne,” harry mutters. “plus, i’m a _great_ dancer. like elvis.”

“you’re a weird dancer,” liam corrects. he grabs the drink in harry’s hand and chugs all of it down.

“hey!” harry protests. “that was mine. i need alcohol in my system now.”

“no one can never forget the way your arms move in the air as—” liam laughs muffle his words.  his loud laugh flows to mckenzie who is also laughing, keeling over. he regains composure, but chuckles through the end of his statement, “as if you’re swatting bees.”

“who cares! i was voted the most creative in asking someone to the dance,” harry points out and liam immediately stops laughing.

“i was third, so what?”

“and chuck bass was second,” mckenzie glees, “can’t believe you lost to chuck!”

“you’re just lucky you enjoy over the top shenanigans otherwise i would’ve won by a mile,” liam tells her. harry rolls her eyes and liam simply cakcles.

“i’m still more creative than both of you,” he points out. “but why are we talking about that when we can talk about fiji!”

mckenzie and harry lift their glasses of punch (secretly laced with vodka thanks to mckenzie) and click with liam’s. “i can’t wait! we’re leaving on sunday right?”

“sunday at three thirty-five, that’s our flight,” harry says reminding liam. he chose an 3 o’ clock flight seeing as liam has trouble waking up before noon on any given day. it is a miracle he even makes it to school by 8 o’clock. “i’ll pick you up, in case you’re still asleep.”

“funny.” liam rolls his eyes. “but no thanks, i’ll be picking up zayn tha—”

“oh no, now you’re going to make everyone wait!” mckenzie groans into her cup. “remember belize?”

liam leans against the wall and takes a sip of his drink. he clearly remembers belize where he made everyone miss their flight and to make matters worse, the next flight to the country was in three days! everyone had to spend those extra days in miserable, hot miami all because he snoozed his alarm.

“so here’s the new plan, we,” – she wags her finger between her and harry – “will pick zayn up to give you time to get ready then we pick you and head to heathrow.”

“what’s the route?” asks liam.

“we’ll be heading to abu dhabi, then to perth then fiji,” says harry with a bored mask, the so-called ‘harry’s resting face’ mask that everyone has come accustomed to. “more than 24-hours heading to a place of sun, honestly.”

“it’ll be worth it,” mckenzie squeezes harry’s bicep.

“why are they staring?” mutters liam. both harry and mckenzie turn to look over their shoulders at a group of three girls, looking their way. mckenzie huffs and turns around but harry remains looking at them. “where are you going?” asks liam when harry leaves them both, heading towards the group of girls.

“hey ladies,” he greets charmingly. they are all teeth and smiles, and giggles. “i couldn’t help but notice you were looking my way…”

“we don’t mean to stalk you,” says the one in a dark red dress. “we were just admiring how handsome you and liam look.”

“liam?” asks harry giving liam a quick glance. “you like him?” the other two nod enthusiastically. “well, why don’t you ask him?”

“it’ll seem desperate,” whines the dark red dress, “and we aren’t desperate.”

“if it was me then i wouldn’t think you’re desperate, i would think you are confident and go-getters,” smiles harry.

“you think so?” asks the one in a lavender dress. “he won’t think that we’re desperate?”

harry shakes his head and the two girls rush towards liam. “what about you?” asks the red dress girl.

“what about me?” harry smirks, locking eyes with hers.

“are you available for a dance?” she asks.

“i would love to but i’m with my—” she steps closer to him and pokes her finger through the opening of his dark blue shirt. harry looks down at her pink manicured finger and then back at her. “boyfriend is my date,” he finishes, politely taking her hand off him.

she steps closer and leans close to his lips. “kendall told me all about what you can do, how you touch, what you say… how you taste,” she whispers, despite the music harry can hear perfectly well. he takes a step back from her, still holding her hand at an arm’s length.

“when i came over to talk to you three i thought you would be friendly, like your other friends, but you just want me for sex and that’s pathetic, laura.”

“you know my name?” she asks starteled.

“who doesn’t?” he shoots back.

“is it louis?” she asks him. “is it louis that’s making you act like a ‘holier-than-thou’ maniac?” she scoffs, crossing her hands on her chest. “you used to be fun. now you’re boring; you don’t throw your parties anymore, you don’t make the lame jokes you used to make, you wore shorts to school once, when was the last time you even washed your hair, and you’re dating a poor person above all. what happened to the harry we knew? where has he gone? are you even proud to be a styles?”

“louis has made me better, he makes me want to be someone better that i can be proud of. you on the other hand, laura,” he says her name with spite, “make me want to disappear.”

it is as if harry’s words have gone through one ear and out the other. she latches onto his neck and whispers in his ear, “you’ve got yourself a prince...” harry shoulder involuntarily flinches to his ear. she is spitting in his ear that he thinks there is going to be a pool in there anytime soon. “and he will love you better that’s true,” she nibs on his earlobe for a while and suddenly says, “but i can fuck you better.”

harry stares at her, eyes wide open. she is standing before him, smug, and harry is paralysed. where are laura’s chills? honestly, had he been dating taylor, been the best of friends with niall, had not known mckenzie that well, had his life been different, the would have slept with this girl who thought dark red would complement her best. had he not met louis, had be not been dating louis, he would have let her fuck him better.

she mistakes harry’s pause as a ‘yes’ and tiptoes to presses her lipstick lips on his. harry’s feels her pressing her lips on his, her hand magically on the back of his neck, gripping down on his hair. her lips move on his, and for the love of him, he moves his lips as well. he is kissing him, she is kissing him, with her hands tangled in harry’s brown hair.

harry pushes her back stumbling in his steps. she is looking at him, smug. “you felt it too,” she smirks, “i  know you did. there’s no denying it—”

“you kissed me,” he hurls.

“you kissed me back, she reminds him calmly. “i didn’t make you do that, you did that yourself.”

 he stares at her. she is right. he did kiss her back, hard if he might add. but she did not taste like louis. oh louis!  he walks away from laura, walking towards the crowd in the middle of the room dancing to some song by nicki minaj that he does not know. nor cares to know. he wants louis.

“hi styles.”

harry makes a 180-degree turn to see louis standing behind him, his cheeks flushed and a 1000-watt smile.

“hey, tomlinson,” he greets, kissing his cheek. “having fun?”

“i have something to show you,” he glees. he grabs his hand and drags him out of the crowded ball room to the boys bathroom upstairs. louis locks it, then launches himself at harry. he grabs harry’s face between his hands, locks his eyes with harry, then smashes his lips onto harry’s pink ones. louis can taste harry’s surprise, taste him completely. he walks him towards the tile wall of the bathroom on the end of it. he pushes his tongue in between harry’s mouth, wanting to taste all of him, and… and is that vodka he can taste?

“where did you get the alcohol?” he asks breaking their kiss.

breathing heavily, he replies, “k had a stash from chuck bass. what’s this for?”

“i want you to hear me,” he says, beaming. harry’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline for a second, his eyes turn dark. “i want you to hear me scream for you.”

“a-are you su-sure?” he chokes, gripping louis waist.

louis takes a step back. he takes off his shirt hurriedly, letting drop to the ground near his feet. he slips out of his vans, harry watching him like he is in a burlesque club. he unbuttons his jeans, pulls the zipper down, and the skinny jeans, to his ankles. he steps out of them, whisking them underneath the bathroom sinks with his right foot. harry’s eyes rake up louis body, from his feet to his head, briefly stopping on louis’ superman briefs.

and he takes them off in one swift. harry’s cock twitches inside his jeans.

“i’m all yours tonight,” louis says shyly, “do what you want. with your mouth.”

harry breathes out slowly. all this... he drinks him in. all of louis, all his body-shocking jewels, all for him. he might just come untouched. “you’re beautiful,” he breathes. all the air in him has been slapped out of him as his feet are glued to the floor. louis notices this and pulls him away from the wall, and smashes their lips once again. their kiss is sloppy and harry is struggling to get his shirt off. he breaks their kiss as the bloody shirt will not leave his bloody hand!

“fook!” he groans. louis giggles at him, helping him take off his shirt. he drops it on top of his superman briefs and jeans. “thanks.”

a turning of the bathroom knob cuts through their moment, a wave of panic ripples through louis’ body. the knob turns twice before it stops. then once more.

“we have five minutes, 10 at most,” louis says worriedly.

“i’ll need five only.”

they find themselves on the cold bathroom floor, harry hovering above louis, nibbling on his lemony, salty skin leaving a burning red mark along his shoulders. he kisses down on louis’ sideburns, the hairs brushing on his own chin. he softly kisses the bite and trails down to louis’ thighs, planting kisses everywhere inside his warm thighs. harry lifts his thigh off the ground, and bites onto the skin deep in inner milky thigh.

there it is, a moan! harry’s heart flutters inside his ribcage. and louis did not mask it at all. he did not hide it. he kisses him again, this time closer to his crotch but no moan. he tries again, his cheeks brushing with louis’ sweaty balls. he tortuously feels harry kissing him in his inner thighs, purposely making him want for it… almost begging for it.

“oh please, harry,” louis pleads from the floor.

“tsk tsk, patience babe.”

“shut it asshead— _oh!_ ”

harry takes him all in into his mouth and sucks hard on louis’ magnificent cock. harry finds his hand on louis’ chest, flattening louis’ chest hair. he takes him whole again, his eyes locked along the beautiful canvas that is louis’ stomach. he thumbs down on louis’ nipple while his tongue swirls around his gorgeous boyfriend.

“fu-fuck m-me!” louis groans. harry continues to suck him, hard, admiring louis’ stomach flexing, feeling him trembling beneath him, inside his mouth. what a sight for harry!  to top it, he gets the pleasure of tasting louis’ in his own mouth.

_no!_

he will not think of laura! he will not think of laura’s tongue in his mouth. not now, he begs his mind. his thoughts evaporate when louis grabs harry’s hand that is raking his chest, tightly.

“you—you’re so… g-g-good,” louis pants. he jerks his hips, surprising harry, and gagging on louis thick cock. “sorry,” he breathes, erotically. harry shivers; he sounds heavenly. the feel of louis’ cock on the back of his throat has got to be the most beautiful feeling. he sucks in as much as he can of him, and louis grips his hand tighter, on top of his hard nipple.

“s-so close,” he groans. he arches his back off the floor. “there… ri-right there.” harry obeys, pressing his tongue on louis’ head. “ohhh… on-once… a-again.” harry repeats, his tongue pressing harder on louis’ thick cock and louis’ hips jerk off the tile floor and manages to stay up.

“come for me,” harry orders and louis screams, loud. he spills into harry’s mouth, wet and heavy, and he swallows all of him. _everything_. louis falls back onto the bathroom floor, his chest heaving up and down, his hand still clasped onto harry’s, with his mouth wide open, gasping for as much air as his lungs can take.

 harry towers above louis, his hands flat on the bathroom floor, pecking him on his blushing cheeks.

“you sound amazing babe,” he murmurs sweetly. “but i’m not done.”

louis’ eyes fly open. “what-what do you mean?” he asks, still catching his breath.

“i want to hear you again, one more time,” harry says huskily.

“bu-but i’m al—”

“for me.” louis nods up at him. “turn around, i’m eating you out.” louis’ mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ and his eyes stare at harry in shock… and wonder. suddenly, harry takes the chance and cups louis lips with his own. he kisses him, kissing him truly, and deeply. louis kisses him back, tasting himself on harry’s tongue.

louis finds himself with his head on top of his palms the floor and ass up and out in the open for harry. harry licks his lips as he grabs louis’ ass in his hands. _yum_. he separates louis ass cheeks and trails his tongue all over him. louis involuntary shudders, gasping for air because that feels good, feels sensational. harry circles his thumb over louis’ pretty, pink hole and breathes in sharp, shallow intakes.

he is going to make his boyfriend feel good. and wrecked.

he tongues on louis’ opening, his nose buried in his ass. he pushes his tongue in a little and louis lets out a breathy gasp. he has not been touched like this for a long time. he pushes into harry mouth, wanting to feel _more_.

harry smirks darkly. he digs his fingers into louis cushiony ass as he pushes his tongue further into louis, deeper than before. he curls his tongue inside of louis and _oh_ louis could just cum right now. he reaches beneath himself, aching to touch himself, needing to touch himself.

harry swats his hand off, muttering, “mine!” harry grasps louis cock firmly in his large hand and strokes him. he spreads the petite, liquid cream around louis’ wide cock and strokes him, hard and fast.

louis pushes back into harry’s mouth, wanting to feel _more_. more of harry pretty tongue in him, swirling, curling, writing his name out.

“come for me babe,” harry calls out to his ass.

“it’s… it’s … too hard,” he groans. he digs his fingers into his palm. he can feel his stomach, intestines, even fooking _appendix_ , tying itself in knots, his toes curling and his balls begging to release but… he just cannot do it. he drags his fingernails across the bathroom tiles when harry sucks his pretty, wet hole. he sucks him again and he throws his head back.

“fook!” he mutters. “again!”

“i know it hard, it hurts, but i know you can do this,” harry says patiently, stroking louis from beneath.

“i… can’t,” louis cries out, almost sorry he cannot come for his boyfriend. suddenly his body is being pulled back from the floor and slaps on harry’s bare , damp chest. his head is laying on harry’s broad shoulder, his eyes blown wide open at the ceiling. with one hand, harry is holding him up by his waist and the other stroking louis thick, wet cock, the white cream spreading between harry’s fingers.

“i can feel you,” he thickly whispers hotly in louis’ ear, “i can feel you vibrating on me,” with the hand holding louis’ body up, he drags his blunt nails across louis middle leaving behind a fire trail, “i can feel you hot,” he then slides his palm down louis stomach stopping on the hairs piled up around his happy trail and pubic hair, “i can feel your release here.”

louis breathes shallow, his hand raking behind at harry’s sweaty neck where his hair is damp against it. he freely mutters harry’s name two, three times in a row, low, and absolutely _rekt_. he is right, harry is right, but he just… cannot…

“i love your voice,” louis shivers with harry’s breath hot in his ear, “i love that i have my hand wrapped around you and your moans are a rare sound that i want to hear every breath, every squeak, every moans, groan, cry, you breathlessly begging…”

louis mind shuts off. he is distracted by harry’s hand firmly stroking him, occasionally juggling his balls, his hot breath in his ear, his other large, burning hand raking his damp chest hair and sensitive nipples, the feel of harry’s sweaty neck mixed with his grease hair and _oh fuck_ harry’s low voice that is nothing but rainbows and sex… he gets his release.

his body arches off harry’s chest, his mouth dropping low and his adam’s apple clearly defined when he twist his head back on harry’s shoulder.  he shouts harry’s name in as much as he can, hand pulling on the hair by harry’s neck, it just rolls of his tongue in pants and moans and he sounds good, the echo in the bathroom making it loud, _double_ _loud_.

he collapses back on harry’s chest, both his hands falling limp on harry’s thighs and he shuts his eyes. he feels his entire body on fire, bonesless and burning… from his orgasm, he can even feel it in his toes and the tips of his hair! somewhere in the back of his mind he feels harry wrap his hands around his waist, saying something to his ear but he cannot _hear_ him.

minutes later, louis’ breath has returned to normal but his head is reeling and his cheeks flushed. he opens his eyes finding himself staring at a white sink. he has his clothes on, including his briefs, and shoes. he sees harry over by the bin dropping white tissues into the bin and walking over to the sink to wash his hands with water and soap.

“you were so amazing,” louis says now standing behind harry.

“you were insatiable.” harry is smiling at him through the mirror.

“how long was i out?”

“just a couple of minutes,” he says, drying his hands. he throws the paper towel into the bin. “i dressed you up, hope you don’t mind then i cleaned up hopefully no one will wonder what happened in here.”

louis lets his forehead fall on harry’s chest and hugs him. he shuts his eyes, taking in harry’s heavenly scent. “was i girly?”

“no,” harry tells him strongly. “you were you, and i couldn’t be any happier at that. and p.s., i love surprises like these.”

“me too,” louis chuckles. he lets go of their embrace and louis looks elsewhere but at harry. “thank you.”

laura pops into his mind yet again. why oh why, is this happening? his mind wanders off to the fiji holiday that he will be taking starting this sunday… plenty of time to forget what he did with her, and lots more time to remember louis’ moans and breathy tones.

harry cups his chin between his thumb and finger upward so louis can look at him and only him. he bends to kiss him. he kisses him passionately, pulling his chest tightly against his, and resting his hand on the dimples by louis’ back.

“i whale you, angel.”

“i whale you, my butterfly,” louis whispers on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES! think i took LONG to post this /= but finally done with my internship and on EASTER BREAK *pops Coke bottle* WHOOS WHOOSH


	60. 0.59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry's back from vacay.

** **

> **i guess i wished my years away. i wanted to grow up so badly.**

“you missed this place right?” asks harry to louis who is testing his skateboard at the bottom of the ramp.

 it is a week to the opening of school, a whole seven days and harry is back from his yatch in fiji – alone. he left liam, mckenzie and zayn heading down the ocean to new zealand while he picked the first flight back to london. why? something to do with niall and his father bonding, his low moods, and the looming return of the malfoys.

louis nods cheerily. “yeah.”

louis has spent his summer at toys ‘r’ us… before he got fired yesterday. why? he was caught playing the piano when he should have been in the back, taking stock of inventory. days ago when he came home from work, sweating through his armpits and his legs aching to be laid on his bed, he found harry sleeping on top of it. _harry!_ his asshead. he had to stare for close to 10 seconds before walking to the sleeping body, poking it to make sure it is indeed his boyfriend.

they have been at the skate park for a while, louis holding harry’s hand tightly as he tries to skate. harry falls multiple times, he is more on the ground than on the skateboard. there is a time when he did skate from one bottom end of the ramp to the other end without falling off and louis caught it all on camera.

harry grunts. lovely.

louis takes off the cigarette stuck behind his ear and lights it. harry sighs, looks down at the ground before sitting down on it. louis is sitting cross-legged by harry’s head laying nonchalantly on the ground that louis gapes at him. harry is lying flat on the cement ground without muttering something about germs, dirt and dysentery.  all around them are other skaters rolling their skateboards up and down the ramps, doing flips and other acts in the air, while there is a truck playing music somewhere far off that can still be heard.

louis takes a long drag, filling his lung with warmth. “i’m going to miss this,” he says, waving the cigarette in circular motions. “i loved the warm weather, the long nights, not working… that i won’t miss.”

harry’s eyes shift to louis. “can i be serious for a second?”

“of course,” he says, then takes a drag of his cigarette. “you know you can, always.”

there are a lot of things on harry’s mind, and what to start with he does not know. “there’s too much on my mind i don’t know what to start with. i have so much to talk about, so much to say, so little time. i feel like a dam wanting to burst open but i have to hold it all in, i have to breath under water.”

louis reaches out to take harry’s hand but harry shakes his head. he ducks his head and takes a drag off his cigarette.

today seems like one of those days whereby it feels more like a bad life than a bad day. harry has some of these days, once in a while, and it makes louis’ wilt inside of him because such a beautiful boy like harry should not be allowed to _feel_ this way, he deserves the world.

“when i was younger, around twelve, thirteen, i couldn’t wait to be twenty-three, graduated from harvard business school, working at my father’s company, engaged to my wife and set to be married in the summer by the beach… i’d have a cat named olivia,” harry chuckles sadly, “and she’d be my bestfriend.

“i guess i wished my years away. i wanted to grow up _so_ badly. and then i did,” he laughs, and it is humourless and tired and just makes louis’ heart ache. “i had to be someone worthy of my father, i wanted to get his approval, get his attention. for his birthday, i bought him his favourite audi, he didn’t like it. i got him his favourite scotch, he didn’t approve, i got him the world’s favoured horse, he didn’t want it. didn’t even notice i got him the fake one.

“high school was complete _shit_ ,” he stresses on the word, “i had fake friends everywhere. people would be my friend because i’m my father’s son, the great dr styles, or want to know about my mother for their sick, sexual fantasies.” louis cringes as harry exhales through his nostrils. “but not me. not me, who would want to know the suicidal, rich kid? i started lying to everyone, wanting them to like me, to love me for me but they didn’t. they wanted my huge parties, they wanted my body, they wanted my girlfriend, they wanted my father, they wanted my cars, my style, hell, even where i lived but never _me_. nobody wanted harry.”

louis hits the dunhill on the heel of his hand, one cigarette slipping out. he sticks it between his teeth, lights it and takes a long drag from it.

“i eventually stopped trying to get my father’s attention, i am always going to be his bisexual, good-for-nothing son who will never amount to anything. i stopped trying to get people to like me and let them use me for sex, money and the fact that i’m harry styles,” he covers his eyes with his arm.

“it was last week when liam was on the phone talking to his father telling him about this new equipment the navy got and he sounded so excited, so happy to tell liam about it even if liam wasn’t exactly excited. i don’t remember the last time my father ever called me with good news. he never calls me anyhow.

“everyone has a father, or father-figure.” he sits up and turns to louis who is on his fourth cigarette. his fingers are scratching on the skin by his nail, his head ducked down. “zayn’s father loves his son truly; liam’s father calls his son from across the world to tell him that he has new equipment at work. mckenzie’s father, when he’s not drunk,” he snorts, “takes his daughter to fashion shows and cheers the loudest. daddy taylor adores his daughter as if she’s the only girl in the world, niall’s dad even if he moved to ireland, calls him every night to remind him that he loves him,” he breathes in deeply running his fingers through his hair, “his step-father loves him as if he was his own son. your biological father wants to know you after messing up,” louis frowns but remains silent, “and your step-father spends an entire afternoon with you to play football, or take you for beer without johannah knowing, and my father doesn’t even care about me.

“everybody has a father that loves them and i…” he sniffs, exhaling through his mouth, “i feel ashamed by it. that’s why i never talk about him because i practically don’t know who he is.” his eyes are glassy and his throat feels dry and heavy. “he hates me, he doesn’t consider me his son, he’d rather have niall…” his voice cracks and louis’ eyes well but rapidly blinks, occupying his mind by taking a drag from his cigarette, “making niall have three dads, technically. he moved to canada for work but it feels permanent and ever since i can never get anything right. i got reject letters from ivy leagues, i broke up and got back together with my cheating girlfriend, my ex-bestfriend hates the fook out of me, my other bestfriend can barely look at me without pity, k…”

harry buries his head in his hands, his fingers curling on his forehead.

“you’re allowed to miss your father, harry,” louis says softly to him. he circles the butt of his cigarette on the ground near him and discreetly inches closer to harry. he can smell his banana shampoo in his hair.

“i don’t want to because i sound pathetic, and lame and my life has been wrong. each day i got a new surprise that no one cares, loves and recently taylor, and my family too, used me for their own gains…” he shakes his bowed head, violently scratching his thumb nail. he looks up, breathing hard at louis. “i don’t know, sometimes i wish i had your father,” he smiles sadly, “he’s so nice, warm, funny… loving. y’know when i came by your house and you were still at work?” louis nods. “we watched the germany - brazil game from the 2014 world cup,” louis smiles a little remembering the game from years back, “and he was so passionate about it, crying out for brazil to score but every time germany would score instead and he would get so angry and my father never even did anything with me—” his words are chocked by the sobs he has been holding back this entire time.

he breaks down in front of louis. he furiously wipes the tears off his cheek, the ends of his mouth tugging downward and louis’ heart sinks to his stomach. he holds harry’s shoulder but harry brushes it off, pushes him off him. he covers his face with both his hands and all louis can do is _painfully watch_ him.

“not knowing you is your father’s loss,” louis says firmly, hoping he can get through to harry.

“but i can’t let it go,” harry sulks, his cheeks wet, “i wrote to him in canada, trying different addresses because he keeps moving houses, penthouses, then sometimes he’s in tokyo then he’s in london, and when i find out, he’s already flying back to canada. i call, i skype, i even flew there but he wasn’t there… i don’t think he wants to see me. and even if all this seems like a tiny problem in my life, even if it feels like i’m exaggerating, it makes me want to disappear from my rooftop, then maybe my fooking father will finally love me.”

“no harry,” louis cries, his eyes welled up. he badly wants to hug harry and he does. harry tries to push him away but louis latches onto him, tightly. he nuzzles his head to harry’s neck, his fingers digging through harry’s chiffon shirt. “don’t every say that. your father is _wrong_. he’s wrong. everyone’s wrong. you’re my butterfly, you’re my—”

louis shakes his head against harry’s neck, words lost on his tongue. his harry, so broken, a mess, and non-greasy hair.  he has wounds that won’t heal, a heart drowned in sorrow, money and fast cars, all in search of love, real love, in all the wrong places.

“what the fuck happened to me?” he asks louis brokenly. to the outside world, it looks like the two boys are holding onto each other, but to them both, louis is hugging him tight as if trying to hug away every ache in his bones that has been there for as long as harry can remember.

louis manages to get himself together and cup harry’s cheeks. he wipes harry’s wet cheeks, his red eyes cannot be wiped off, and holds his face warmly in his tiny hands.

“second chances, remember?” louis gently reminds harry. “i believe in second chances and  won’t break you down, i will hold you up, take your hand through everything, and most importantly, i will care for you as much as you want me too. i whale you, harry.”

“what i’m trying to say is that be careful with me,” harry says with the utmost sincerity and innocence. “sometimes i just get sad and i don’t know why. i’m sorry.”

“never apologize for being yourself. not now, not tomorrow, not in october, not in three years, never do because when you do you erase a part of yourself that someone out there loves, like me.” harry smiles, albeit a small one. he takes a deep breath and nods once. “and dad loves you immensely, by the way.”

“he does?” harry asks. his eyes shift between louis’ orbs. louis nods at him, his hands off harry’s face and on the ground, lifting his body off the ground.

“yes,” louis tells him strongly. “he wants to hear all about fiji,” louis chuckles. he takes harry’s hand in his left, his skateboard in his right and they walk to the parking lot. “do you know what you made me realize about my parents?”

“what?”

“that i should spend more time with them,” louis tells him. harry’s white matte lambo comes into view. “because one day, when i look up from my phone being a typical teen, they won’t be there anymore screaming in my face to clean my room, wash the dishes, put daisy and phoebe to bed, to stop wearing the same skinny jeans for the third time this week, or to wear my glasses when i’m reading or else i’ll worsen my eyesight.”

“you will,” harry makes fun.

“thank you for that,” louis tightens their hand-holding. harry smiles down at him. “and you’re staying for dinner tonight?”

“do you want me to st—”

louis tiptoes and smashes their lips together. he can taste harry’s surprise then feel his lips move on his own. he fingers card through the harry’s long brown hair as harry’s left hand ghost on the curve of louis’ back, his other hand holding louis’ skateboard. their kiss is deep, tasting each other completely, all of harry’s deliciousness fogging louis’ brain and his stomach tying itself knots.

“alright,” harry chuckles, breaking their kiss. “i’ll stay since you asked so badly.”

“hush asshead,” louis chuckles, his cheeks flushed.

 

back at the tomlinson residence, they are enjoying a warm meal of chicken pasta ( _pasta_ , no surprise), with a bottle of old wine that harry brought as a gift. once they are done eating, harry volunteers to put ernst and doris to bed, not fancying himself making cups of tea for everyone. there are housekeepers for that, he tells himself.

carrying ernst on his left and doris on his right, he makes his way upstairs to their nursery room. he lays a sleeping ernst in his crib, laying on his stomach. doris, on the other hand, is jovial as ever but harry, wild guessing here, that she is about to sleep. he lays her down on the crib, face up.

he smiles down at her, gently rocking the baby crib. she gargles, her feet up in the air. he takes a deep breath and sings to her _hush little baby don’t you say a word_.

by the end of the song, doris is fast asleep, her head laying on her left cheek. harry’s eyes crinkle the baby too cute for his eyes. he takes out his phone and opens his snapchat app. he takes a snap photo of a sleeping doris with the caption: _mockingbird baby (:_

he turns off the dimmed lights but leaves the door open to the bedroom. he gently knocks on  daisy and phoebe’s bedroom door, and pokes his head through the small opening.

“harry!” phoebe cheers. “we were waiting for you.”

“will you read us _cinderella_?” asks daisy sweetly.

“ugh! read us _rapunzel_ instead.”

“well, since daisy already has the book, tonight we’ll read _cinderella_ and tomorrow we’ll read _rapunzel_ ,” suggests harry.

“promise?” asks phoebe. harry promises and the twins nod at him from the bed. he settles between them on the bed, the barbie duvet covering their legs and their backs leaning against the bed frame.

“ready?” asks harry, opening _cinderella_ to its first page. daisy nods enthusiastically while phoebe leans her head on harry’s arm looking down at the book. harry begins reading the book, his voice soothing, slow and calm to the ears of the twins. his voice sounds like milk and honey.

“what’s it like, being in love?” asks phoebe when harry is turning the page three-quarters through the story.

“she’s asking because she has a boyfriend,” the other twin teases.

“i don’t have one,” phoebe shoots back, then gazing at at harry, asks, “do you believe in soulmates?”

“no, i don’t,” harry says. the twins shoulder’s sag,and a little disappointed. “but,” he says firmly, “i believe in seeing someone from, say, across the room and knowing they will matter to you, instantly.”

“is that what happened with lou?” ask daisy cheerily.

“yeah, i guess,” harry blushes. the _cinderella_ book is sitting on his lap, long forgotten by the twins. they are more interested in harry’s fairy-tale story, featuring his prince charming, the skater boy louis tomlinson.

“but how did you know?” phoebe stresses. “how did you know louis was, well, your soulmate?”

“i don’t think he is,” harry hesitates, “but i know that he matters to me greatly. a lot. so much that i’d be very sad if he were not with me for some reason or the other.”

“he’s a gentleman,” daisy says.

“but why louis? why not taylor?” asks phoebe. daisy reaches across the bed and hits phoebe’s leg. “ow! what was that for?”

“you can’t say stuff like that!” daisy hisses at her sister.

“it’s alright,” harry laughs trying to ease the tension. “really, it’s fine.” daisy is still glaring at phoebe. “but with louis it’s better because,” he studies the edge of the bed before continuing, “he makes ordinary days fun. we don’t generally make huge plans together, we just make things happen. if he feels like frozen yoghurt, we head there; if he wants to sit in the it class during lunch time instead of the cafeteria we do, if he feels like skating at the skate park i’ll go with him.

“why? the skate park sucks.” phoebe rolls her eyes.

“ _he_ doesn’t. and i’d do anything with him because i like spending time with him, we always have a blast together even if we’re watching _adventure time_ in the library. the secret is finding someone who makes you look forward to waking up on monday.”

“mondays suck.”

“not anymore,” smiles harry. his smile warmly spreads through his entire body and his dimples are clear on his smooth face. he realizes that he means it, he loves mondays now, he loves tuesdays, too, wednesdays, thursdays through to sundays because of louis.

“how do you define love?” asks daisy, gazing up at harry with eyes full of innocence and eagerness. 

“i don’t think it can be defined,” says harry honestly.

“but to you, what is love? now that you are in love with my brother, what is your definition?”

“well, growing up i had a completely different view of what love is, and honestly when i think about it, it sucks.”

“what was it?”

“love, i thought, was always giving my partner red roses on important dates like anniversary and birthdays, it was dates on saturday night with imported wine, it was having chauffeurs driving us around ritzy places in the country and staying in cabins in the woods that look as if you’re in… narnia. it was also taking her on yatch trips to exotic islands and eating foods i could not pronounce.”

“that sounds lovely,” phoebe says skeptically. “how is that better? how did you leave all that for loulou?”

“hush!” diasy hisses. “what’s your new outlook on love?”

“with louis it’s better. to me love is ugly snapchats and not caring about them because i know he won’t make fun of me for them. it’s me calling him at 3am to talk about feminism and he will listen to my rants. it’s waking up next to him on the bed and not even the sun outside can match the warmth from his body. it’s singing at the top of our lungs to lady gaga with facemasks. it’s being honest and raw and knowing everything will be alright after. it’s tears from laughter, tears from the sadness and nothing like you’ve read in _cinderella_.

“love for me is eating curly fries instead of lopeq h’cuid salad, it’s having frozen yoghurt for breakfast just because…” he fondly smiles at the memory, “it’s sitting in the car for hours talking about david guetta and johann bach and somehow not getting bored, with sweets. it’s listening for hours on end why france should’ve won the euro championship and not portugal and even if you could honestly care less, you want to hear more.  it’s sleeping in their bed, even if they aren’t there, and feeling instantly better because their smell is everywhere… which you will miss, constantly. most of all it’s doing something, anything, for the other because you are completely, madly, and insanely infatuated by them like going to the london symphony. or beyoncé’s concert because you secretly like beyoncé.”

“i think the shocking thing from all of this is that you listen to lady gaga,” phoebe drawls. daisy laughs out loud and harry cannot help but laugh too.

“well lady gaga is pretty awesome, but bey is better,” harry defends himself.

“so do you love louis?” daisy eventually asks after the three sit back in the bed, pondering about harry’s concept of love.

“of course i do.”

“are you in love with him?” diasy corrects.

his jaw hangs loose, his mind boggled. he sputters, his fingers playing with themselves. instead, he turns to phoebe. “so why the questions about love?”

“no reason,” phoebe says, her voice high all of a sudden.

“her boyfriend,” daisy whispers loudly.

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

“is too.”

“is not.”

“is too.”

“well whoever it is, don’t pressure yourself—”

“he asked her to be his girlfriend and she hasn’t replied,” daisy rushes through her sentence. she holds her arms in front of her face from the hit phoebe lashes at her. harry leans forward, preventing any more harm by the twins. at the time, johannah walks into the room, informing harry that movie night is about to start.

“alright,” he says, getting off the bed. he turns to the twins and pulls the barbie duvet to their chins. “comfy?”

they nod. “good night kiss?” asks daisy. harry turns to johannah, who nods at him, and he presses his lips to daisy’s forehead. he leans over daisy on the bed, his hand holding onto the bed frame, and kisses phoebe’s forehead.

“night mama,” phoebe calls out.

“night my munchkins,” johannah bids them goodnight, waving kisses at both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed that ☺ MORE SOON [:


	61. 0.60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry throws one of his legendary parties, the back-to-school party...

** **

> **forget what our parents want, what our friends what, everybody wants, it’s our life, what we want.**

 

the school semester officially starts, with chattering of summer holidays to exotic islands, foreign countries that one wishes they could go, sipping classy champagne and old wine, chaperones and limousines, shopping for expensive things and attending posh parties. the glamorous life.

and to kick off the school semester, harry throws his legendary parties that he used to throw before he started dating louis, or life became too much. if you listen closely, you can hear a thousand and one people collectively sighing, ‘finally!’

the party is in full swing, the two people not invited are taylor and gigi. the champagne is a lot, the beer (thanks to constant insisting from both mckenzie and louis) and food are double, the vodka and whiskey triple, the drugs quadruple, and the fun is tenfold.

“this is sick!” zayn cheers, taking the beer bottle the bartender has handed him and liam.

“i know right,” liam chugs down his beer, “i never thought i’d see harry throwing his parties again.”

“niall’s parties became boring, obviously,” olivia joins their conversation. “it was always about him and parading his new catch.”

“like fooking janëlle,” liam curses. zayn and olivia roll their eyes. niall and liam, like they always do, compete against each other for her attention, just like they did with barbara p., and in the end niall won the competition (a few diamond bracelets does wonders).

“new semester, new girl,” zayn reminds liam with a pat on the back.

“oh yeah, did you see anyone new?” asks liam.

“there was this new guy; pale, tall and skinny,” says olivia.

“just how you like them,” zayn teases. olivia mechanically laughs and sips her bubbly drink. the sounds of david guetta play loudly in harry’s mansion and is large garden illuminated by technicolour that looks glorious under the night sky.

“have you seen louis?” asks liam. the both shake their heads. “hmm.”

“i need a refill,” olivia announces, shaking her empty glass. she walks off towards the bar (the other bar, not the one liam and zayn are standing next to) to get another fill of champagne. at the bar, there is a long line and who is in front of her? none other than lizzy, the girl (amongst million others) who wanted to be harry’s escort to the july debutant ball.

“hey!” she cheers. lizzy scowls at her, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “what did i do?” lizzy rolls her eyes and asks for a glass of champagne. “two, please,” olivia tells the bartender. “what did i ever do to you?”

“you and liam.”

“what about me and liam?”

“you slept together,” she says strongly.

“and?”

“we had a deal, olivia, you and i wouldn’t sleep with him because we both liked him, but clearly, promises mean nothing to you.”

“grow up!”

lizzy scowls, once again and the bartender hands her one of the glasses to which she throws the contents down olivia’s green dress. olivia makes a strangled noise, her eyes traveling down her chest to see it wet and clinging to her body. she growls at lizzy and slaps her. a fight ensues between them and the bartender has trouble stopping them as lizzy is stronger than she looks.

 

the night continues deep into the wee hours of the morning, nevermind school starts at 8 o’clock the following day. with super rich kids, school is just an accessory, like rings or a watch, when really a piece of paper stating one’s literacy levels is just that, a piece of paper. why get an education when you will work for daddy’s company?

harry is tipsy, mckenzie is tipsy and so is trisha, it is a wonder that they are even making a conversation among the three of them.

“oh!” mckenzie says suddenly, too much beer slurring her words. “i love this song,” she quickly stands up and topples over. “crap! i cannot be this drunk!”

trisha laughs loudly at mckenzie leaning against the wall. “you are. and you drunk, what, three beers? lightweight!”

“lightweight!” harry shouts. he has a halfway-through green bottle swinging in his left hand. “you are though.”

“am not,” mckenzie screams, loudly. the music downs her scream, and also the party is too drunk to care. “i haven’t drunk beer in over three months.”

“you’ve been sipping on that chardonnay,” trisha cheers, laughing loudly.

“c’mon, let’s sing this song!” mckenzie shrieks at harry and trisha. they walk where it is less crowded over by the tree decorated with red and green lights, almost looking like a christmas tree.

“ _pumped up kicks_ is my jam!” harry howls. “ _all the other kids with the pumped up kicks_!”

“how do you know that song, mr beethoven?”

“louis,” harry cheers and trisha clinks her beer with harry’s overpriced green bottle. “i know these songs cause of him, otherwise i’d be playing bach and mozart right now.”

trisha laughs, incredibly loud in mckenzie’s ear as she has her arm around her shoulder. “that’s so true. he does like mozart.”

“and beethoven!”

harry, instead, sings along to _pumped up kicks_ before the djs (yes, deejay _s,_ he has two) change the song to the classic song _stacy’s mom_. the three of them scream in each other’s sloshed faces just because. they prepare, clear their throats, fold their fingers and arms to air guitars, and belch out the chorus of the memorable song of the 2000s.

“… _but  since your dad walked out your mom could use a guy like me_ ,” harry sings, his fingers moving rapidly on his stomach as if playing an electric guitar.

both trisha and mckenzie sing with their hearts the chorus when it plays across the party: “ _stacy’s mom has got it going on / she’s all i want and i’ve waited for so long.”_ trisha falls to fits of laughter but mckenzie belches on: “ _stacy can’t you see you’re just not the girl for me.”_

“ _i know it might be wrong,”_ harry chants this part, strumming his air guitar.

“ _but i’m in love with stacy’s mom_ ,” trisha sings it, more of screaming really. “ _oh, ohhhhh.”_

“staaaaacy,” mckenzie cries and harry pretends to smash his electric guitar to the ground. he accidentally smashes his green bottle and shrugs it off when his other favourite song blasts through the wild party: _ugly hearts_ by the girl band, g.r.l.

“my favourite baaaaaaaaaaaaaand,” trisha cheers, her phrase filled with giggles and drunk on beer.

“the chorus is close,” harry warns. the three prepare themselves for the chorus of the song. after what seems like an eternity, and two chugs of beer from mckenzie’s bottle, they belch out the chorus by trisha singing off tune proudly.

“ _okay you’re pretty / your face is a work of art.”_

harry shakes his hips. “ _your smile could light up new york city after dark.”_

“ _okay you’re coverboy pretty / stamped with a beauty mark_ ,” mckenzie sings with robust, her arms waving wildly around her.

“ _but it’s such a pity a boy so pretty_ ,” trisha sings off key, practically screaming off words.

together, the three end the chorus: “ _with an ugly heart!_ ”

“i need more champagne,” harry tells them and they head to the closest bar. they swim through the crowds, bodies sliding off them, others bumping into them, harry trying his best not to cringe what with all the sweaty arms and bad breath on his wealthy, cheshire skin.

“wait!” trisha stops them, holding mckenzie’s left shoulder and harry’s strong, right shoulder. “is this _i kissed a girl_?”

they both turn to look behind at her, then at each other, the voice of katy perry blasting around them, then at trisha.

“one more before champagne?” she asks the both of them and harry nods enthusiastically as mckenzie already singing the first verse:

“… _i’m curious for you, caught my attention!”_

it is trisha’s turn. “ _i kissed a girl and i liked it / the taste of her cherry chapstick.”_

“ _i kissed a girl just to try it / i hope my boyfriend don’t mind it_ ,” harry strums his air guitar, throwing his head forward and his hair falling over his face

“ _it felt so wrong_ ,” mckenzie hums. she catches trisha’s giggling shoulders with her long fingers.

“ _it felt so right_ ,” trisha sings. her eyes go cross-eyed to mckenzie’s lips which are so touchable, too good _._

 _“don’t mean i’m in love tonight_ ,” mckenzie ends the chorus and spontaneously presses her lips to trisha’s.

harry’s hand freezes on top of his head as he runs his fingers through it. his jaw is hanging low, his eyes staring at trisha and mckenzie kissing. trisha and mckenzie. mckenzie and trisha. there are cheers, and whistles, circling the two girls, and katy perry singing about experimental games being human nature. for the rest of the song, they replace harry’s broken champagne with a brand new one, and two other bottles of beer for trisha and mckenzie.

“that was hot!” harry exclaims.

“it was,” mckenzie clinks her beer bottle with harry’s green bottle and then trisha’s. “to a new semester!”

“hear, hear!” the two hurrah.

“finally, lady gaga!” harry groans in delight. lady gaga’s _applause_ plays through the thousands of speakers, and perhaps it is all the champagne, but he thinks the djs have increased the volume, if that is even possible.

“this is my fav. song of hers,” trisha laughs drunkenly. “i love it!”

“ _i live for the applause, applause, applause_ ,” mckenzie belches out, slurring through the lyrics.

harry throws his head back, some strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “ _i live for the applause-plause, live for the applause-plause_.”

“ _live for the way that you cheer and scream for me_ ,” mckenzie sings, shaking her head sideways with her hair swaying with the vibrant colors on her blond hair.

“ _give  me that thing that i love_ ,” trisha sings out of tune. her phone rings in her pocket and she picks it up. mckenzie and harry stop singing and drink off their bottles, chugging down the contents down their dry and hoarse throats.

they resume their singing, somehow knowing the lyrics to the songs that the djs play such as _move_ by little mix _, sexy & i know it _by lmfao _, sugar_ by maroon 5 _, lips are movin’_ by meghan trainor… so many more songs that by the time _billie jean_ is ending, they cannot sing anymore, throats dry and voices hoarse.

they collapse on the grass in front of the large, grey mansion, harry lying down in between the two drunk girls. there are party people circling them, most of them drunk, others … they could care less as long as nobody enters harry’s room. they can hear the sounds of miley cyrus in _we can’t stop_ picking up beat.

“ _remember only god can judge us_ ,” trisha words the lyrics. “ _forget the haters, cause somebody loves yah_.”

“what happened to her?” asks mckenzie. her hands are above her as she admires her orange, gel nails. “she used to be awesome.”

“she _is_ awesome. i prefer her like this: wild and free,” trisha glees.

“ah, louis texted me,” harry mumbles as his thumbs tap his iphone screen, “i don’t think i’ve seen him since like nine… and it’s three thirty-seven now.”

“fook!” mckenzie curses. “i’ve got school tomorrow.”

“we all do,” harry laughs. he texts louis that they are in front of his mansion near the fountain, then pockets his phone, gibberish and all, hoping he will understand. “did anyone see that new girl?”

“what new girl?” asks mckenzie.

“she had hair up to her butt, golden, plump lips, thin, and legs for days,” harry describes the girl he saw swaying her hips to the music.

“nope. but i saw this creepy guy who was tall, pale and blond.”

“blond guy? can we not have any more nialls coming to our school?” groans harry. he runs his fingers through the grass below him, loving the coldness of it with his hot fingers.

“ _so raise your glass if you are wrong_ ,” trisha chants, “ _in all the right ways, all my underdogs….”_

“isn’t it strange that high school is almost over?” asks mckenzie, the mood lowering from jovial to sober in conversation, yet their heads flowing with alcohol.

“we’re graduating next year, k,” harry reminds her. his eyes are admiring the glittering stars directly in line with his eyes. “but high school is ending fast. we’re leaving this place soon and life is going to fook us all.”

“yeah, but we’re better now than we were in the beginning of the year. we were snobby losers in freshmen year, some of us still are, and now we’re mature, grown up—”

“we grew up too fast,” harry laments.

“ _come get it bae, come get it bae / you wanna ride it, my motorboat… you’ve got a something_ , ” trisha sings, out of sync and getting the lyrics wrong.

harry turns to trisha laughing at herself for getting the lyrics to _come get it bae_ wrong. his eyes draw back to the shining star. “freshmen year was much easier, we got what we wanted easily, we all clicked, we were just… us. now we’re ruined, falling apart at the seams, what we thought we shared we really don’t, it was all an illusion.”

“that’s cause it was easy back then, that’s why things were fun,” mckenzie says. she gets up, preferring to sit up than lie on the grass that was making her back damp. she sits like a pretzel by harry’s stomach and puts her hand above his warm stomach. her hand moves slowly up, then down, with each breath he takes.

“i still want those times.”

“ _don’t cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me / big fun, don’t cha_ ,” trisha mumbles the lyrics to _don’t cha_ by the pussycat dolls.

“but we’ve done this,” mckenzie tells harry. she shifts and lays the left side of her head on harry’s warm stomach, facing his chin. “we’re better than this, harry. this isn’t freshmen year anymore, it’s junior year, next year we’ll be graduating high school and starting our flawless, rich lives that we’ve been trained for.”

“ _my power is turned on / starting right now, i’ll be strong/ i’ll play my fight song_ ,” trisha sings loudly, mckenzie and harry stopping their conversation to listen to croaky trisha. she continues, skipping the part where she does not know the lyrics, “ _cause i’ve still got a lot of fight left in meeeeeeee._ ”

“except high school never ends,” harry runs both his hands through his hair and settles them underneath his skull. “the world is just as obsessed with who’s dressed better, who has the most money, who is having sex, all that matters is climbing the social ladder as high as you can get, who hasn’t grown yet, who’s poor and who is losing their money…”

“but it’s different; high school and real life.”

“it’s the same damn people, just different titles and clothes,” harry sighs at the end.

trisha suddenly sings along to the booming music from the party, cutting through the heart-to-heart harry and mckenzie are having. it is _so good_ by b.o.b. “ _anything you want it’s yours / i’ll have you living life like you should / you say you’ve never had it so good.”_

mckenzie gets off harry’s stomach and stumbles as she stands up up, excitement evident on her face. she darts her glance down at the two of them with ambition fierce in her eyes. “first off, this is my favourite song. second, let’s make a deal, let’s all challenge ourselves for this semester,” mckenzie proposes. “for this semester, we should be unapologetic.”

“how?” asks trisha, who has joined the conversation for the first time.

“forget what our parents want, what our friends what, everybody wants, it’s our life, what we want,” she says, strong and firm. she turns to gaze at trisha on the grass. “no more bullshit, it’s taking our life by our own hands,” she gazes down at harry, “or more relying on other people to fix our lives, to make it better, because only we can change and make our destiny as much as we want.”

harry sits up, placing his hands on top of his knee. he turns to trisha who has also sat up and gazing at him, then at mckenzie.

“you need to stop apologizing for dating louis, for choosing louis,” she continues, talking to harry, “stop that. if he doesn’t know, which i doubt, it’s hurting him. and you, trisha, stop moulding the world to your weird fantasies. in your fantasy you’re basically taylor waldorf but really you’re trisha cappelletti, a nobody from poor doncaster. but this is your chance to make a name for yourself, be trisha cappelletti, happily and proudly, not trying to mimic fooking taylor because no matter how much you try, you’ll never. be. her.”

“i want to be queen of the school.”

“you can by being yourself, not by copying taylor.”

“alright,” harry says, feeling a new burn, a new air filling his lungs, despite the faint smell of alcohol and weed in the air. “yeah, why not? life’s been a little boring and i need a new hobby.” he gets up, holding out his hand for trisha. “new challenge for this semester: be unapologetic.”

“yoosh!” trisha cheers, fist pumping in the air. “i’m in. unapologetic.”

harry starts, then trisha and finally mckenzie puts her hand on top of trisha’s in the middle of the three of them as their way of agreeing.

“and now i’m going to look for louis…” harry randomly announces. “see you later,” he kisses mckenzie’s cheek, “if you go home before i see you, goodnight,” he finishes off by kissing trisha’s cheek.  


**=     =     =     =**

** **

  
sitting in one of harry’s many closets, louis runs his fingers across the ends of harry’s ysl shirts (he places his other designer shirts in other closets), rows of them run on louis’ left side, and harry’s right, there is no end in sight. harry had called louis asking him where he is and told him to meet him upstairs in his room. louis knew he misread the text because harry was sitting his one of his closets in his walk-in closet under his ysl shirts.

“you got lights in your closet?” asks louis, pointing up at the small rows of light along the ceiling of the closet. harry looks at then at louis. “it makes your shirts more tolerable to look at.”

harry chuckles, rolling his eyes at louis. “hush.”

“are you having fun?”

harry nods. he takes louis’ hand in his, laying it on his thighs, circling his thumb around louis’ prominent knuckles.

“i don’t think i say this enough but you’re timeless to me,” harry says, with heaviness in his voice. “it’s you, and it’ll always be you, and even if we’re sitting under my shirts in my closet…,” he chuckles, not believing that he would ever be sitting under his clothes, let alone in a _closet_ , with someone he enormously likes. it is unheard of. he has never done this with anyone apart from louis and he actually enjoys it. “heaven is a place on earth with you.”

louis blushes, looking down at harry rubbing his thumb on his own. he bites down on his bottom lip, cursing himself for being _such a swooning high schooler_. harry gently pulls down louis’ bottom lip with his thumb, his nose brushing louis’. harry looks into louis’ eyes, totally, then locks his lips with louis’ bottom one that he had been chewing.

harry kisses him, deeply and truly, underneath all his overpriced, posh ysl shirts. the back of louis’ head touches the bottom of the closet, enjoying snogging harry, exploring his mouth with his delicious tongue.

louis wedges his thigh between harry’s legs and rubs on it. harry moans into the kiss, and more when louis rubs his crotch. he shifts them both, harry letting a sound between a moan and shriek.

“i missed you so much,” louis grunts, kissing harry along his jawline. “you have no idea how many times i jerked off to thoughts of you,” louis pins harry’s hands above his head on the ysl closet floor, “even your stupid flower shirts.”

harry shuts his eyes, his mouth releasing a trembling exhale. “show me.” he opens his eyes to gaze at louis gazing down at him.

louis licks his lips and presses them to the space between harry’s salty, shoulders. he smells dreamy. he unbuttons his flowery (groan) shirt, giving up halfway before ripping it open. harry can always buy another one, or fourteen. he drags his lips down harry’s warm chest, zig zagging across his marvellous, toned chest.

“show me how you missed me, babe,” moans harry. harry lifts his hips off the ground and louis yanks them, along with harry’s briefs, down to his ankles. “i missed your lips around me.”

“patience,” louis tuts.  louis shuts his eyes as he pressed down on his crotch, and _oh fook_ , he feels him already hard, very. you cannot blame him, he has been jerking off himself but the feel of louis warm mouth around his balls makes him see black for a few seconds.

by the end of rihanna’s _s &m _song harry is getting off his high from louis mind- _blowing_ blowjob. he can still feel the light touch of louis’ fingers jiggling his sweaty balls. he does not want to move from the floor so louis lays his stomach on top of him and harry clips his fingers together on top of louis’ neck.

“i’ve never done that before.”

“done what?” asks louis.

“been blown in my closet,” he chuckles, louis hearing the vibration around harry’s chest. “you’re amazing, did you know that?”

“you said so when you screamed by name several times,” louis chuckles, nuzzling his head on harry’s chest. “how was the photoshoot?” he asks after  a moment. harry, two days ago, went for his photoshoot and interview with teen vogue for the september issue that is featuring an article concerning influential teens of united kingdom. harry is amongst the three teens chosen; the other two are clara, who, coincidentally, is from the same school as harry, and another from wales.

“it went well, they’re releasing the magazine this thursday,” harry replies, “and i looked horrible in my photoshoots.”

louis suddenly heaves himself off harry’s body, explaining that he is getting uncomfortable. harry nods and suggests that they go to his bed. meanwhile, outside their little world, the party is going on, the time ten minutes to 5 o’clock. the party goers at this moment are either, drunk, high, or about to get wasted, for the third time. louis sighs happily jumping onto the white bed, his head hitting the soft pillow last. harry joins him on the bed not before putting his phone down on the bedside table.

“trisha says she is being dropped by zayn, and says she’ll tell you about her night tomorrow,” harry says to louis. he lays on his stomach and slips his hand beneath louis tank top to his hip and pulls him closer. if it were possible, louis’ hips are furiously blushing under harry’s large hands.

“i saw her on snapchat kissing mckenzie, what was up with that?” he turns to his left to gaze at harry across the white pillow.

“i think katy’s _i kissed a girl_ was playing and then it happened.”

“what did you say in the interview?” asks louis curiously. he is so close to harry he can see the lines in his emerald, daring eyes.

“well i talked about my modelling with burberry—”

“i still can’t believe you’ve been a model for like five months and never told me,” louis mutters. just outside the door, there is a roar— “and surprise surprise, it’s not ysl.”

“anyway,” harry rolls his eyes, “i talked about it and how i dress for myself, and no one else. i don’t dress like most males, my style mostly metrosexual, and controversial. starting from my shirts which both women and men can wear, mostly women, but i feel comfortable wearing them because they’re beautiful. basically i talked about my dressing styles, and how i, which i didn’t know, am an inspiration to young adolescent males out there in the uk.”

“but you are.”

“i guess,” harry shrugs. he circles his hand on louis’ hip. “i sometimes don’t think so.”

“i may make fun of your shirts but they grow on you,” louis’ left side of his thin lips tug upwards as he speaks, “and you can’t’ help but like them.”

“thanks,” harry smiles, then kisses him. “i talked about you, too.”

“really?” louis asks. harry’s hand lowers down louis’ hips as he silently nods at him. “what did you say?”

“how much you mean to me,” he tells him, “how much you’ve made me realize what being in a relationship is, but most importantly, when i face criticism on what i wear from the entire world, constantly being bashed, i just need to look at my crown ring,” harry presses his hand down on louis’ soft skin he can feel the metal against his skin, “and remember that someone,” he blushes and louis teeth glow under the moonlight, “believes in me.”

“you’ll be surprised at how many people do. but how did you get to be a model with burberry?”

“i saw an email notification that they had a new collection,” louis rolls his eyes fondly, typical harry. “so i went and tried their clothes, and mr berrybur himself happened to be in the store when i was with k and he asked if we ever thought of being models. k couldn’t be bothered but i said, ‘sure.’ and that was it.”

“you met the man himself!” louis gasps. “that’s sick harry!”

“i’m nervous about the issue. what if my father reads it?” he asks, his eyes flaring with fear of his father reading all about his good-for-nothing, gay son in a magazine.

“listen butterfly, you’re going to be great. everyone will love you and by being in teen vogue it is a way of reaching out to your father. you told me last week that you’ve tried countless times to get your father to like you, to listen to you, and this is one of the ways to do it.”

“do you think he’ll read it?”

“who wouldn’t read it?” louis shoots back. “if there are people, they can suck dicks.”

harry laughs, nuzzling his head in louis’ neck. “you’re great to me.” he lies back on his pillow, gazing at his boyfriend. “i whale you.” his hand lowers further down louis’ skin.

“i whale you,” louis hums back. the two fall silent, and the music from the party blares through the walls, reminding the couple that there is life going on outside harry’s white sheets. the pad of harry’s fingers trace down louis’ happy trail.

“i had a dirty dream of you,” louis admits, his cheeks turning a deep cherry color.

“what was i doing?” asks harry cheekily.

“you were touching me,” louis turns his head away from harry to stare at the ceiling. his feels his stomach tying itself in knots as harry twirls his finger on his happy trail. “you had your hand on my body.”

“where?”

“where it is.”

harry drags his nails down louis’ happy trail until where it ends along the hemline of louis’ boxers. “here?” louis nods. “what else?”

louis covers his face with his hands. “you whispered in my ear all the things you’d do to me and i listened intently but then i got hard,” he inhales sharply and raps through the next part, “because your voice was heavenly in my dreams just like in real life. you kept whispering in my ear, saying what you’d do to me, i kept getting hot, and you made me frustrated because you weren’t touching me.” louis loudly grunts into his hands. “when i wanted to you would swat my arm away but finally, finally,” he shudders, reliving his dream clearly, “you did and your grip was firm and hot and shit, i don’t think i’ve ever comed so hard before.” he removes his hands off his face and turns to harry. “i screamed, out loud.”

harry raises his eyebrows to his hairline. “really? you?”

“i was extra loud,” louis says, his tone at a low octave.

“you’re making me hard,” harry grunts in louis’ ear. his finger nails dig into louis’ stomach. “so hard.”

“show me.”

“really?” harry asks, his hand itching along louis’ hemline. louis quickly jerks his head up and down against the pillow, gazing at harry.

“don’t make me wait.” harry sees louis’ eyes fill with want, and lust as his fingers travel down underneath louis’ boxers. louis turns his head away from harry, feeling suddenly vulnerable under harry’s gaze. “i want to see you.” louis breathes slowly before turning to face harry. “and hear you.”

harry feels louis cock stretching into his hand and he grips it. louis waits for harry, and waits. but harry just holds his cock in his large hand. louis groans in frustration, and places his hand around harry’s and strokes himself.

“my turn,” harry says and louis relaxes back onto the bed, both his hands off his body and above his head. “i’ll show you dreams are not as good as reality.”

“mouth, do what you want,” louis instructs him. and harry cock twitches in his pants.

“yes, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the... i didn't think GIF manips EXISTED ?!?!?!? like ?!?!? AM I BEHIND ON TECHNOLOGY?! maybe! im thinking so. but manips are so better with GIFs... if they aren't cringey /=
> 
> hope you enjoyed this ☺


	62. 0.61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis and harry's date develops into tales of adventures from the past.

> **he realizes that harry is filled with stories, so many wonderful magical stories that he never gets to tell someone, or rather anyone because, well, nobody cares.**

 

** **

as part of harry’s new semester resolution he had made with mckenzie and trisha of being unapologetic, he decides to change up his relationship. more specifically, the dates they go on.

do not get him wrong, he loves more than anything the casual restaurants, the skate park, cozy cafés, the whatnots, but he is starting to miss his idea of a date: fancy china, white linen table cloths, limos, valets, rich wine that has not been made two years ago (ugh!)… essentially, he misses the rich, glamorous life of the styles.

for tonight, he decides to spontaneously treat louis nicely. he picks him up promptly at 7 o’clock in his suit and tie, and his ysl brown boots. louis is donned in skinny jeans and black, spider web vans (harry fondly rolls his eyes) and a stunning shirt and olive-colored blazer. he leaves a bottle of expensive, rich wine for johannah before he leads louis down the steps and into his limo, with a chauffeur waiting for them by the door.

the restaurant of choice is jam calen. it is the most expensive restaurant in london, if not the whole of uk. one would need a 6-month advance booking – unless you’re the likes of nonchalant styles, simple paynes, ruthless horans, or even the backstabbing waldorfs. those who go to the restaurant are those whose bank accounts have so many zeros it makes one head spin therefore not just anyone goes to jam calen. the meals served are mainly those imported from far places across the green and blue earth, beverages that taste like milk and honey, and the ambience is dripping with money and class.

the glamorous life.

harry pulls out louis’ seat, then takes his own after louis has sat down. in a snap, their specific waiter is by their table with a bottle of rich, red wine from 1984 and two glasses. he pours some wine into a tiny glass, to which harry tastes and approves, then goes ahead to pour into louis’ wine glasses. another waiter comes forth with the menus.

“welcome mr styles, the menus,” the waiter greets, setting down the menus in front of harry first, then louis.

“give us a minute, george,” harry says to the waiter. he walks off and takes a sip of his wine. “well?”

louis swallows his wine looking around. everything looks too expensive, so expensive he can smell the money off it and his eyes turn into the pound sign. he is probably sipping on red wine that has specs of _gold_ in it. honestly, he would not be surprised.

“it’s… different than our usual dates.”

“i know,” harry smiles, “i just thought that you’ve been taking me on lots of dates, which i love by the way, but i want to show you my world, where i go, what i do, associate with, all that and jam calen is one of the places.”

“don’t worry,” louis smiles, his eyes landing on the menu before him, “i don’t mind. i was wondering when i’d eat something i can’t pronounce.”

harry laughs, setting his glass down in case his wine spills onto the floor. “do you like it?”

“honest?”

harry nods.

“i have never felt out of place before, that’s for sure.” harry looks dejectedly at him. “but if i’m here with you, i feel better.” harry lights up at him. louis nods to himself and studies his menu. “what do you recommend? i honestly can’t read any of this fooking food items.”

“understandable,” harry muses. he goes over the items on the thick menu, going over the sections, explaining to louis what is what, what is good, what he can _actually_ eat. from what he has seen in movies and series, louis does not particularly find ‘rich people’ foods appetizing – they are either too little, look discomforting, or ridiculously expensive for something that tastes like charcoal.

“what are you having?” he asks harry after moments of explaining the _entire_  menu.

“the is’ank wrok is tasty,” harry says.

louis buries his head in his menu. he is already sweating through his blazer, his fingers are gripping the menu a little too hard and his eyes swimming through words he cannot understand. if he is being honest, he is utterly uncomfortable and he feels out of place. perhaps he should not have worn his skinny jeans, nor his vans. he takes a gulp of air – and the waiter – george – is at ther table to take their orders.

harry says his order and louis, in a moment of panic, points to whatever his finger landed on the menu: piji aive. he prays it is good.

“you got the duck one,” harry sips his wine, “it’s sweet and tasty.”

“is everything tasty?” he asks harry. his eyes take a sweep of the restaurant: on the far left is a table of five with men in suits, there is a couple where the man looks bored out of his mind, there is harry sipping his wine, then to his 1 o’clock a waiter is murmuring something to the man’s ear, and furthermore as he drowns his glass of wine, three girls, almost their age, chatting wildly and laughing while sending flirty glances at the table to his furthest right with several boys, also, almost their age.

not forgetting the soft jazz music playing around jam calen.

“are you feeling okay?”

it is what anne had said, that time she came to his house. wherever he is, in this rich world, it will always be as if there is a language that sounds like english, and he thinks he can speak it, but harry, and the others, never seem to hear him, they do not understand him.

he truly understands now, looking down at the rows of spoons and knives to his right, to his left different forks, the many glasses that he cannot begin to wonder which one is for wine or water, nevermind knowing which type of wine. and to top it off, what he is wearing today. anne had said he will always feel underdressed no matter what he wears. granted, he did choose to wear skinnies when everyone wore custom-made suits, but. he still wishes he did not feel _underdressed_. always.

“yeah,” louis lies, mastering his happy voice and face. “i am. tell me, how was your day?”

“it was ok, the issue of teen vogue for september is out,” harry says, “and i’m waiting for my father’s wrath, approval, whatever, if it ever comes.”

“i read it, it was all beautiful. you talked about being yourself from now on, taking your life into your own hands and not relying on anyone to make your fate. you added that you’ll stop listening to everyone on how to live your life such as taking me for the debutant ball, and that those who matter will not mind.”

“have you met my father?” asks harry rhetorically. he slumps into his seat. “my father is basically the devil himself. sometimes i wonder if daddy taylor is a kinder man,” adds harry quietly. “actually he is because he likes me. he thought of me as his own son… when i was dating taylor. i don’t know if he still does.”

“c’mon harry, let’s not talk of the past, let’s talk of the future. us.”

“i’d love that,” harry smiles at louis across the table, his glass raised in the air. “i’d want nothing more.”

their food comes to the table and louis’ heart sinks. whatever harry ordered looks so much tastier than his piji aive, or duck as harry earlier told him. he finishes the wine his glass and pours himself another.

“this semester is going to be very busy for us. you have your football practice for the school football season this semester and i have the fashion show that i’ll obviously be participating in. hopefully this year chuck bass will not win.”

“what’s the show about?” asks louis. he swallows his duck as quick as possible, not loving the taste one bit.

“we get to design a whole collection from the designers that the school shall choose. i hope there is ysl, or burberry, i’ll even settle for iguanad, but whoever creates a whole fashion line in three days from scratch wins. the first one gets a guaranteed job with the said company with a million pounds, the second one gets their clothing line sold in shops and the third gets an entry into the london fashion show, which is what i always get.” harry huffs into his glass. “so exhausting to be honest.”

“you’re obviously going to win!”

“the theme for this year is mental,” harry groans. “the theme is tribal patterns.”

“that’s easy…”

“it’s the hardest theme!” harry exclaims. he leans forward to the table. “it seems easy but really, it’s quite tricky. matching, mixing… at some point you’re using the same tribal patterns.”

“how will you make a fashion line from scratch?”

“are you really asking how _i_ can make a collection from start?” he asks cockily. louis rolls his eyes. “anyway, are you ready for the football season?”

“stoked!” louis cries happily. “i can’t believe that we even got qualified for the uk school’s football league. it’s awesome that we did. and now we’ll have to train so much that i’ll be too busy for school which i’m worried for.”

“we just need to make time for each other –oh!” harry sets his glass down excitedly. “guess what?” louis pushes his plate of piji aive away from his and settles his hands on top of the table. no use in pretending the duck is delicious. harry does not wait for louis to respond as he is too excited. “i joined a club!”

“you?” asks louis in disbelief. “you who thought school clubs are beneath you?”

“yes!”

“which one?”

“the paint club,” harry smiles.

“you can paint?”

“i can’t draw for shit,” harry snorts, “but i want to learn how to draw, paint, what have you. i’m actually excited. i already bought my brushes and paints and that large paper thing that art people carry.”

“a pad?”

“it’s called a pad.”

their waiter, george, interrupts their conversation to remove their plates and take their orders for desert. harry says he is quite full and if they should share their desert. louis agrees.

louis takes a sip of his wine. “you should’ve taken art as a subject.”

harry shakes his head. “i actually want to enjoy what i design not be forced to be creative.”

“when are you meeting?”

“every wednesdays.”

“and football practice is mondays, wednesdays, and thursdays,” says louis. he frowns lightly. he is thinking about it, what about their time together. “so we’re free during the weekends, tuesdays and fridays.”

“looks like facemasks mondays is gone.”

“we can move it to tuesdays,” suggests louis. harry nods. “how about date night?”

“how about fridays?”

“what about your parties?” wonders louis.

“you first,” says harry. louis’ can feel his face warming up. he is thankful of the dim lights in the restaurant or else harry would see just how much he is blushing under his comment. “fridays?”

“fridays,” louis confirms. he finishes his third glass of wine and unsteadily pours himself more. some blotches appear on the white linen table cloth, circles of red forming quickly.

harry leans forward once again on their table and takes louis hands into his own. “listen louis, there are going to be people who’ll want to break us up, relentlessly. to be honest, before i’ve been ignoring people’s comments and sneers about you, me and you… us. i simply didn’t care.” harry squeezes louis hands, his gaze dropping down to their hands held firmly. “now i have too because it’s different.”

“how?”

“we’re officially together now unlike before. people gave us limits on our relationship not thinking it’d last more than three weeks. most people saw you as julius two-point-oh and were just waiting for us to call it quits. taylor thinks i’ll be coming back to her, niall hasn’t been, well, niall because he thought we’d be over… same goes for the whole school. not just the school but my mother who hated you but now she does not. i mean, she doesn’t like you but—”

“i’ll take it.”

harry laughs, his gaze falling then meets louis’ once again. “what i’m trying to say is that it’s us against the world. we’ll have a whole lot of stupid coming our way because people don’t understand love is love, no matter your bank account or family name.”

“harry, what’s worrying you?”

“people create lies, gossip, rumors, half-truths, truths that should be kept a secret all come out and they destroy everything you’ve worked for,” harry says, his mind flooding with memories of himself falling victim to all these. “and i’m not an exception.”

“what’s scaring you, butterfly?”

“that you’ll believe them and… and—”

“i told you that i’m here to stay,” louis says softly. “remember second chances?”

“i do very much,” harry blushes, “and thank you for keeping up with my shit. honestly, i’m such a messy handful.”

“you’re my messy handful,” louis smiles fondly. their desert comes through: mini chocolate fountain and a bowl of marshmallows. louis clasps his hands together. “yum!”

“how have you never had this before?” wonders harry, dipping his marshmallow in the chocolate fountain. he takes a bite and his mouth his filled with glorious sweetness.

“i’m not some rich snob who can afford a whole chocolate fountain for desert,” louis says absentmindedly as he swirls his marshmallow in the chocolate pool of the fountain. “this is so good. how have you never shown me this?”

harry laughs. “i’d rather have curly fries than chocolate fountains.”

“chocolate over fries any day.”

“i haven’t asked about your schedule yet, what classes are you taking?” asks harry.

louis chews on his chocolate marshmallow before responding to harry. “obviously maths and english.”

“we’re in the same class for english but who do you have for maths?”

“mr phone,” louis glees. “best math teacher i’ve had since freshmen year.”

"we can’t be in _one_ class together.”

“we both have chemistry and history,” louis tries to remember his schedule and harry’s schedule that he memorized. “and p.e.”

“so four classes?” louis nods at harry, his mouth stuffed with three marshmallows. “that’s not too bad.”

an hour later, larry find themselves stuffed on too much chocolate (louis having ordered another round of marshmallows to finish the liquid chocolate) and louis is more than happy to let loose – by that he means letting go of his tight blazer. harry, on the other hand, changes into his white shorts and a loose gucci button-up shirt. louis upon seeing harry wearing his white shorts, suggests they relax in the pool, outside.

“but it’s cold,” harry whines.

“it’s september, not december.”

“let’s go to the indoor pool,” suggests harry.

louis gives in. “fine.”

louis dips his toe into the jacuzzi before completely submerging his body to get it warm and… wet. harry has a floating board with a bucket of champagne and a glass of the sparkling drink in his hand. sometimes louis wonders if harry’s blood is made entirely of expensive champagne and not, in fact, blood.

“what are you thinking so hard about?” asks louis after they both were in comfortable silence with the whooshing sounds of water circling around them, and a couple of housekeepers by the sliding door to the indoor pool.

“nothing much.” harry drowns all of his glass. he pours himself another glass, then another, and one more.

“harry, you know you can tell me anything. if you’re worried about us i assure you that nobody or anything will get between us.”

“it’s not that,” harry says and louis sighs in relief. at least _that_  is not bothering him, but one thing at a time. “it’s just that everything is changing so fast, too quickly.”

“i know,” louis says sitting back in the jacuzzi. underneath the water, their legs are intertwined with harry’s legs sprawled on louis’ and louis’ fingers carding through harry’s long hair. “i feel like we’re being pulled in hundred different directions, do you think it’s cause we’re about to graduate?”

“our last semester of being juniors, never thought i’d reach here to be honest,” he says, pouring himself another glass of the sparkling, rich drink.

“in a jacuzzi with me?” louis laughs, “me too.” harry kisses him on his lips. “but i’m glad we’re both here, not just the jacuzzi part.”

“i feel as if everything changes and we barely notice,” harry begins. “i mean, look at the past year alone and you’ll notice so much has changed. people who i thought would be there in my life like niall and taylor aren’t, and people who i never imagined i’d be speaking to are now my closest friends… and i’m dating one of them,” he cheekily adds. louis feverishly blushes under harry’s lips on his cheek. “i suppose life makes little sense and the more i grow i don’t think it will.”

“so make the most of your life, styles,” says louis, turning to his boyfriend, his forehead centimetres from his own. “make every moment count before next year comes and all of this becomes a memory.”

“do you think we’ll be a memory in a year?” asks harry quietly.

“wherever life takes us, i hope i’m with you,” he responds.

“me too.”

louis shifts and straddles harry, his fingers hanging from harry’s wet shoulders. harry drowns his champagne and sets the glass somewhere behind louis, letting it float with the waves of the water. louis kisses him passionately, tasting the champagne on harry’s lips and tongue, so delicious.

“what are you looking so hard at?” louis asks after harry gazes at him longingly.

“i can’t wait to have all of you,” harry hums darkly, his fingers brushing the band of louis’ indigo swim shorts.  he pushes louis to his chest, their crotches brushing against each other. louis gasps at the friction his fingers cupping harry’s neck. “all of you.”

“me too.”

“then what are waiting for?” asks harry.

“to be fair,” louis struggles to find the words, “i’m not accusing you in any way but you’ve slept with a lot of people and to be fair, it scares me that you might have caught something and… and—”

“i’m clean.”

“i know… i don’t doubt you but i’d rather be safe,” louis says, his eyes downcast.

“don’t you trust me?”

“it’s not about trust, it’s not about me loving you any less, it’s about being safe, harry. there’s nothing shameful in having yourself tested.”

“i know there isn’t—but i’m clean, i’m telling you.” louis sighs, his eyes downcast still. he sighs loudly then raises his gaze to harry’s who is gazing at him intently. “i thought you trusted me?”

“i do.”

“trust me when i say that i have nothing.”

louis breathes in deeply through his nose. he knows better not to argue with harry as he does not want to get him upset. he exhales through his mouth, forcing himself to look at harry’s hurtful look.

“my first time, like i’ve told you once, went horribly with my girlfriend, eleanor,” louis says. harry frowns slightly wondering where louis is heading with his narration. “i couldn’t… i wasn’t turned on and i wondered what was wrong. i mean she was sexy, hot, gorgeous,” harry’s fingers slowly dig into louis’ hips and he stops describing his ex-girlfriend. “but i couldn’t get hard, but somehow we did have sex and she was my first. my second time was with her bestfriend max who i cheated on her with.”

harry circles his arms completely around louis middle who has his palms flat on harry’s swallow tattoos.

louis continues. “the third time is when i broke up with eleanor, i wasn’t talking to max, i was alone, i just wanted to get drunk and have reckless sex. so i did. don’t remember his name. my fourth was liam after persistently asking and well, people said he’s great in—”

“—please don’t say whatever it is you’re going to say,” harry pleads with his eyes shut tightly.

louis chuckles. “fine, my butterfly. the fifth was my ex-boyfriend zedd who you know about then the last person i had sex with was gregg, which was a casual hook-up and you know about that too.”

“why are you telling—”

“after the casual hook-up with gregg last year—”

“you haven’t had sex since last year?” asks harry suspiciously.

“yeah… why?”

“nothing,” he replies shaking his head. “nothing wrong with that.”

“anyway,” louis continues, “after the one-night stand with gregg i went to get tested, y’know to make sure, plus i’m not exactly a one-night stand sort of guy—”

“not the rumors i had about you,” smirks harry. he whispers in his ear, “i had you’re a dynamite in bed.”

“it was never sex,” louis clarifies.

“you make everyone sweat, groan, and you tease them for years until they’re begging for mercy,” harry moans, “they do anything for you.”

“it was never sex,” louis repeats, firmly.

“seriously?” asks harry, leaning back in the jacuzzi. “didn’t you want to have sex?”

“like i said, casual hook-ups are not my thing but after gregg i went to get tested and i felt relieved i didn’t catch anything. i mean, i was terrified that i did because i always told myself that condoms are important. sure, i can’t get pregnant but stis still exist and they can be passed easily.”

“i suppose.”

“and some stay dormant for years without you knowing.”

“okay.”

“hpv is not a joke,” louis says, in that tone of a mother, “sometimes it is just as bad as hiv, if not worse than it. i mean, it can lead to some sort of cancers which is a whole issue on its own.”

“what do you want louis?”

“will you… will _we_ get tested?” he asks softly.

harry thinks it is a dumb idea because he, for sure, knows he is clean but if it will make louis happy, and also get him some, he will do it. “fine,” he agrees and louis squeals in joy. he smashes his lips all over harry’s face.

“thank you so much!”

“anything for you,” he smiles back at louis, happy to make him glow in joy.

“just so you know i can’t wait for us,” louis glees, applying pressure on harry’s crotch. harry’s fingers grip louis’ hips tightly.

“since we’re honest,” he says after composing himself, “i might as well. my first was kendall, as i’ve told you, after the truth or dare game. my second time…,” harry blinks trying to remember all those years back. “second time was with brittany who turned out to be the most boring girl on this damn earth. after that, honestly i lost count.”

“doesn’t matter.”

“there was clara who was the first girl to make me feel that friendship can still thrive even after all the stupid parties and hook-ups.”

“isn’t that the girl who was on the cover of teen vogue with you?”

“yeah.” harry nods. “we’re friends but you probably guessed that we’re all fake friends with each other. we’re not as close but we talk. to olive the first girl, or person really, who i said no to sex. i… i was surprised to be honest. it was the first time i felt vulnerable and small and i never wanted to feel that again. plus so far, i always said yes to sex, so much so i had a reputation for never saying _no_. i was the ladies’ man, after all.”

“hmm.”

“then there was vanessa who made me feel like the only person in the room, sexy and desirable and not because i’m the harry styles or i’m rich, but because of who i am.”

louis genuinely smiles. “she sounds wonderful.”

“after we broke up, i fell back into my sex craze where i’d have sex with far too many people in a week for a normal teenager,” he laughs dryly, “they always said yes to me. even bloody kayla said yes to me, the holier-than-thou girl, she said yes to me. i didn’t know she was really a virgin.”

“you took her virginity?”

“i took many,” harry admits. by now louis is off harry’s lap, sitting near him, glass of champagne in his hand long forgotten.

“then my first guy julius who i’m still not comfortable to talk about what happened but he made me feel different,” he shakes his head slightly, “i was gay… _am_ gay. one of the reasons why he disappeared was because i wasn’t ready to face my truths; i was gay, my father wanted me to go back to taylor, my sister was going to a correctional facility for possession of heroin… i was messed and sex was the only thing that took everything off my mind.”

“it must have been hard.”

“there is a girl i met in sweden when my sister left and she made me feel safe. she took me back to her house. i felt awkward eating breakfast with her and her parents the morning after but they didn’t seem to mind. then in russia, there were these two twins who somehow thought i was awesome, fun and not at all suicidal.”

“you are awesome.”

harry looks at him, his eyes not all together sad but something beyond and chilling to louis’ spine. “i was broken at that time louis, i didn’t know who i was… or rather, i was in constant denial and i wanted to be lost forever. we had fun, the three of us. i mean, i’ve never been a fan of incest but hey, that was pretty cool.”

“gross,” he chuckles.

harry smiles, but it is flat. “for several weeks i would have sex with both sexes, to see if i really was gay, and at the same time to block that thought by having sex with women, of all ages. late twenties, thirties, women who were older than my mother… sixties.”

louis gawks, spilling some champagne into the jacuzzi. “sixties?”

“she was attending a gala anne forced me to go to and she was a very classy lady,” harry says nonchalantly. “her name was marrit. she passed away last year in december and left me one of her beloved paintings in her will.”

“she remembers you?”

“we had sex more than once.” louis mouth drops to the water. “and i’d fly to munich to see her every other time.”

“she was german?”

“yeah.”

“how old was she?”

“sixty-eight.”

“i don’t know why but i should be disgusted but your sex life sounds like a movie,” says louis and harry rolls his eyes. “go on.”

harry takes his time pouring the rich drink into his glass.

“then after marrit i sort of cleared my way off girls my age, it was all about older women. they are much more fun, more mature and they don’t demand too much. plus to be fair, they never knew who i was… i wasn’t harry styles, i was just edward to them.”

“you lied about your name?”

“my father is well-known, can’t exactly ruin the pristine styles name,” harry drawls. “but all that ended when i got back together with taylor. sex by then became numbingly boring. with her i had to act a certain way to get her attention… like flaunt my fooking self like a fooking peacock so that she would look at me, have sex with me, make me feel like she wanted me,” harry growls, splashing the water.

louis throws his arms in front of his face to stop the water entering his eyes. he drops his hands slowly, wondering if this is how harry feels about them now that they have actually never had sex since… since never!

“is that how you feel about us?” he asks, his tone vulnerable.

“no!” harry shakes his head, his eyes wide and alarmed, “not at all. with you i don’t need to pretend, to act like someone less, i can be myself, i can be… normal. with you, whether i take you to jam calen or not, hire out the wembley stadium or not, whether i hire out a yatch for the summer or not, or whether i propose to you on graduation or not, i know that you’ll still want me, you’ll still want to be mine.”

louis smiles, his lips tugging upwards just a little.

“because of taylor she has taught me to never be that person again, i don’t need to fight for someone’s attention because when i’m doing that then i don’t deserve to be in that person’s life.”

“or you could say ‘fook yourself’ more often,” louis suggests, smirking.

“then there was zayn,” harry breathes out deeply, “who was… great i guess and he’s the one who made me realize that this foreign feeling inside of me is not going anywhere.”

“anyone would turn gay for a night with zayn.”

“true. also that if i couldn’t go to heaven because i was gay, then i don’t want heaven anymore,” explains harry. “i stopped believing in religion, in god, in a higher power. taylor wasn’t the only one who made me feel like i had to fight for attention, most girls in school did. i was a horny teenager so i did what i had to do. i moved mountains for them, i bought diamond earrings, necklaces, sleek cars, expensive destinations i couldn’t pronounce, hotels in dubai, beaches in southeast asia, anything they asked for, i gave.

“soon the tables turned. i manipulated people for sex. i realized that people would have sex with me with or without my gifts so i did just that. i had girls and boys alike now that i was openly bisexual, lining to have sex with me. i apparently had a reputation—”

“—you did, i was there,” louis snorts. he takes the champagne  bottle off the floating board and takes a swig of it.

“so i used it. i exchanged sex for favours, sort of like what liam does, but mine was horrid. it got so bad that i voluntarily got back with taylor to stop myself, it was the only way.”

“for someone who has had sex a lot you sure respect relationships.”

“mine yes, other people’s not so much,” answers harry dryly. louis turns to him, his face one big question mark. “i broke so many people’s relationships, most of them thought that we had a connection after… you know,” louis nods, not really ‘knowing’ what harry means, “a quarter of them thinking that i wanted a relationship and the rest wanted another night. i don’t do sex twice with someone, not my thing.”

“you said you had threesomes before?”

“curious?” smirks harry. louis softly hits his arm with the champagne bottle. “i’ve had my fair share of them, even so far as orgies. i like to do them outside the uk because of my reputation that i need to uphold.”

“you travel outside the country to have a threesome?”

harry laughs, for the first time hearing out loud what he really does. “i suppose yeah,” he smiles widely, “it does sound ridiculous now. i went to as far as australia, new zealand, hong kong who are pretty spontaneous people if i do say so. canadians are not as fun in threesomes but hey…” harry slides down the jacuzzi the water covering his entire body save from his head, “of course americans but my favourite has got to be latinos. they’re… breathtaking.”

“oi!”

“alright alright, sorry,” harry giggles, “but you were curious.”

“i don’t want to hear how breathtaking they were.”

“you’re more.”

“humph,” louis rolls his eyes, “but why all that sex? why all of it?”

“at first i liked sex, it was fun, sensual and… i started this sentence thinking i’d have more to say,” harry chuckles, louis joining in. “but then after i had issues with my father, gemma, anne, everyone and on top of that i was suicidal so sex was sort of my escape from it all. for just a night i could sleep away all of it. plus it wasn’t always about sex. sex is about everything but sex.”

“that’s what liam always says.”

“it’s true.”

“in what way?”

“for me, going to these different parts of the world, i got to be somewhere else for a while. in shanghai, i remember the girl i met when i was getting into this restaurant that mckenzie said i should go to. she approached me and said she could show me shanghai, the night is apparently beautiful and my goodness, it really is. it’s truly magical at night.

“of course there is matilde who made me fall in love in paris. a city so ancient, so beautiful, filled with class and rich history, the culture, the food, the champagne,” he eyes the bottle louis is drinking from, “everything about the city is perfect. it’s no wonder i always go back to paris at least twelve times a year. not because of matilde but she made me love cities, in general.

“then liam, since his family is weirdly obsessed with america, showed me new york, california, and nevada, the most beautiful places in america.”

“isn’t it awkward sleeping with liam?”

“it was… i mean, i wasn’t high or drunk plus liam’s parents are sort of very free with their parenting so when we were,” he shuts his eyes as if painfully reliving the memory, “in the other room but i had sex with liam, and to be honest i wanted to see what all the rage was about with him. i finally got it.

“there was this bloke named vishal who had a weird obsession with trains. loved them to bits and pieces,” harry laughs and louis lips part slowly at gazing at harry laugh by himself. “he would insist on taking the train to get around india when i could perfectly get us around with a jet. i attended an indian wedding, ate so much chilli my asshole was burning for days on end, i rode an elephant and ate indian delicacies and for a while in my life i believed in a god, in anything really.”

“sounds like the script for _eat pray love_ ,” louis notes.

“sort of i suppose. i did the love and eat parts quite well,” harry winks at louis.

“vishal? was he hindu?”

“gujarati,” harry corrects.

“alright.”

“how can i forget about anastopoulos.”

“ana _what_?”

“anastopoulos, the greek man?” asks harry and louis levels him with a look. “he was a street artist in athens, just trying to make a living. he made good art, very graffiti-like, not in the dirty ghetto way but the other way. he’s part of the reason i joined the paint club. i googled him later on, mr anastopoulos, and he’s some renowned street artist in all of greece. people love his underground museum.”

“he has an underground museum?” wonders louis. “that’s sick! but, hold on, how did he get money to open his museum?” louis spots a lopsided smile on harry’s lips. “yo—you did something, didn’t you?

harry smiles vaguely, his face doing that thing where louis cannot tell what he is thinking and knowing he will not get the answer out of him. he is right as harry continues his tale.

“then marrit who taught me about life in itself, and also that parents have a funny way of showing their love. most importantly she taught me that rude people fear they won’t get what they want and they should be loved nevertheless,” he says with great nostalgia.

“sounds like she knew a thing or two.”

“very wise woman,” he smiles fondly at the memory of marrit. “she and i spent a lot of time discussing the symphonies of mozart, her favourite.”

“why mozart?”

“well, she liked his music best. something about being half-austrian. did you know she lived not too far from where hitler lived?” he asks excitedly. louis shakes his head.

he goes on to tell him the different places of the world he visited, meeting people from all walks of life. by the end of it, he knows a lot of different cultures of montevideo, abuja, tasmania, kiev, and cities he cannot pronounce all because harry knows all this. he realizes that harry is filled with stories, so many wonderful magical stories that he never gets to tell someone, or rather anyone because, well, nobody cares.

a large part of harry are these stories, even if they are tainted by lots and lots of sex. but even if he had to give up large parts of himself in exchange of this, louis thinks he received so much more than he gave. or perhaps he gave so much more than what the _others_ gave him (he would have to listen to _their_ stories to know).

“i hope all this isn’t scaring you,” says harry hopefully.

“at first it did, but right now, it’s like a fooking movie, man. you wouldn’t be harry without all that has happened to you and even if it had to be through sex, it made you the man you are today.”

“i suppose. i just wish i didn’t have to say goodbye to some of them. or hello to others.”

“you learned to love yourself, to love other people, places, to value and feel valued, and to dust yourself off and pick yourself off… and hopefully saying ‘fook yourself’ more often,” he laughs ending his sentence.

harry sits up straight, straightening his shoulders with a new wave of self-belief. “i did actually. i really did.”

“why didn’t you tell me any of these stories?”

“because explaining how many people i’ve slept with over the years is not something i’d want to tell people. i still can’t watch _four weddings and a funeral_.”

“why?”

“there’s a scene where the lady talks about how many people she’s slept with and i can’t help but wince along with her,” harry admits, cringing.

“oh, we’re definitely watching this movie,” louis says all excitedly as he is getting out of the jacuzzi.

“what?” harry’s eyes follow louis walking out of the jacuzzi and grabbing a white towel on the rack. “we are not watching that movie.”

“oh we most definitely are,” louis chuckles. he wraps the towel around his neck and walks off towards the housekeepers standing by the sliding door.

“c’mon louis!” harry groans.

he gets out of the jacuzzi and follows louis, most probably heading to his home cinema. still in their swim shorts, they settle in the floor-couch of harry’s home cinema. louis is searching online for _four weddings and a funeral_ as harry presses his order of popcorns and drinks – water for him, _thankyouverymuch_ –  and coca cola for louis.

 

**=     =     =     =**

  
louis slumps into his seat in german class and groans loudly. because trisha wants to make her debut as the rising queen of the school and dethrone taylor, she spends extra time on her clothing, hair, bag, shoes, make-up… basically, she is late for no reason for the train which makes them both late for their first class: german.

or his first class. trisha is skipping the class to give a ‘small’ talk to her new minions. so, instead of sitting with trisha, he is sitting with nick, his football mate.

“long morning?” asks nick.

“you could say that,” louis groans. “i thought i’d reach here before mrs deutsch but clearly….”

“when is she ever early?” nick jokes. “i read your boyfriend’s article in teen vogue. it was an inspiring read.”

“it really is,” nods louis, happily.

“i think being a burberry model is a huge deal and it’s perfect for him. he’s quite fit and dresses extremely well,” he leans in closer to louis, “sometimes more than chuck bass.”

“chuck always wears suits,” louis chuckles. “but he doesn’t look too bad in them.”

“he looks dapper,” nick agrees.

mrs deutsch walks into class at that minute, precisely 40 minutes after the start of class but she probably does not care seeing as they have double german. after german, louis heads for his next class and on his way to the science block, he reads all his texts, not replying to some, ignoring others, and replying to a few.

first up is trisha.

 **LOUIS:** Why were you absent?! Talking to your minions does not last that long!!

 **LOUIS:** Are you skipping class just to be Queen ? You know Taylor scores perfect As in all her subject AND she is still Queen.

 **TRISHA:** Calm your tits Loubear !! I’ll explain all at lunch.

 **LOUIS:** That is worse than calling me William !!

 **TRISHA:** LOVE YOU TOO

passing the it block, louis replies to liam’s texts.

 **LIAM:** Since you’re the Captain of the football team, can we NOT have training today?

 **LIAM:** I mean, why pick Wednesdays of all days ?

 **LOUIS:** YOU’RE COMING TODAY ! I can’t be alone with JUST Niall for training today.

 **LIAM:** You’ll have your 2nd boyfriend there a.k.a Nick Grimshaw.

 **LOUIS:** He’s so weird !!!!! He was talking about how fit and hot Harry was in Teen Vogue.

 **LIAM:** HE WAS FIT AND HOT ! Did you see Harry’s abs?!!???!?!?!?!? Even Clara was bloody hot!

 **LOUIS:** NO SHE WASN’T. She looked basic and was basically stealing Harry’s shine.

 **LIAM:** Who’s jealous now?

 **LIAM:** Where are you?

 **LOUIS:** I spot you!

 

liam looks up from his phone and looking around to spot a lad with vans on his feet walking towards him. he smiles at him, swinging his bag over his shoulder. they greet each other and head towards the science block together.

“have you seen the new girl?” asks liam.

“no. who is she?”

“her name is sophia smith. she moved from newcastle last month and her parents are the top owners of real estates in england, wales, and italy. she has a passion for fashion and she would like to someday work for burberry.”

“stalker.”

“that’s not good for me because niall also has an eye on her,” liam groans walking through the school courtyard. “and whoever gets her a spot in burberry gets her.”

“don’t you find it odd that you have to compete with niall for girls?”

“nope. anyway, i was thinking if you can ask harry to let her be his plus one for the burberry fashion show this saturday…” liam presses his lips and slowly looks at louis walking besides him.

“why?”

“because he’ll obviously say no. you don’t know how hard it is to get an invite for bfs. it’s like practically no one gets invited. i mean, i could buy my way in, or bribe somebody in the show but it’s impossible. if i can’t do it then most definitely not niall.”

“how was harry able to get an invite?”

“to this day he’s never told me,” liam mutters. “bloody git can’t tell his best friend.”

louis laughs at liam. “well, you keep talking to him like that good luck ever getting sophia to be yours.”

“please louis,” liam begs, “you know i never ask you for anything. never. just this once please… i would even use my sexual favours but you’re dating harry so that option is out, and it’s actually my only option. i have to get her to be mine before niall does. do you know what niall did for her? he got her the rare—”

“i don’t want to know,” he says to liam, raising his hand at him, “fine. i’ll ask harry if she can go.”

“you mean that?” asks liam surprised. “you would do that for me?”

“i’m not a fan of niall so….” louis shrugs.

“so you’ll tell harry?”

“if he isn’t taking mckenzie… but he shouldn’t because she said she isn’t a fan of burberry anymore after they got her order wrong in july.”

“what order?”

“i don’t know because i wasn’t listening.”

“great!” liam cheers, “i’ll just tell sophia that she is going to be harry’s plus one for the bfs this saturday.” he turns to louis, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“why would i mind?” asks louis.

“because harry is taking someone else that isn’t you to the show….”

“oh.” louis nods once. “that reason. i could honestly care less about burberry and what they design and harry is one huge fan for it. he literally sits by his laptop waiting for the ding sound when he gets the invitation from burberry.”

“yeah but… sophia is hot and harry has a reputation.”

“reputation?” he asks, as he pushes the doors to the science block  and head upstairs to the first floor for their chemistry class.

“last time he went for the bfs he got super drunk and had sex with taylor.”

“nothing’s going to happen,” he says firmly. “nothing at all.”

“sure, sure.” liam drops the subject and brings up a new one. “i wonder who is in our class this semester.”

sitting down in the fourth row, and setting his bag on the table, he replies, “i hope it isn’t niall and his witch of a girlfriend.”

“they aren’t dating,” liam rolls his eyes. “but niall, taylor, trisha and harry have the other chemistry class. in our class, we have each other, then gigi and zayn while in the other class there is kendall—”

“don’t care anymore,” louis rolls his eyes. gigi walks in, scans the room, and spots louis almost immediately. she lights up upon seeing him and walks towards him. louis does not understand why mckenzie and harry, therefore the entire school, do not talk to gigi anymore. it is practically just him and kendall who speak to gigi.

“hey salt,” she glees hugging him and pecking his cheek. “how was your summer?”

“where were you the whole of last week?” asks louis. as she answers, he takes a quick sideway glance at liam who has turned back to his phone. he sighs, even liam is in on the ‘let’s not talk to gigi’ just like the entire school. he turns his attention back to the girl with a ponytail and automatically glees.

“that’s so great,” he cheers having not heard a word. the door opens once again and it is zayn who walks in. there are a few murmurs and gasps as he enters the class, even liam looks up from his phone.

“did you hear what people are saying about me and him?” gigi whispers loudly to louis. he shakes his head at her and leaning in close. “rumor has it that we are thinking of getting back together and he plans on giving me the lady marie-antoinette as a sorry gift.”

“are you getting back together?”

“never!” she sounds horrified at the idea. “though i wouldn’t mind the horse. i mean it is the most valuable horse in the entire world!”

“but you know it wasn’t zayn who had been hacking into the school system. it was niall,” says louis.

“that was this year. last year he is the one who hacked the school systems and made my life a living nightmare by putting me in all the same classes as that bitch perrie.”

“who is perrie?”

“no-fooking-body,” gigi grits her teeth. “then you know what else?” louis automatically shakes his head. “apparently because i made harry and mckenzie mad, the whole school is in on the ban just like how we were all in on the ban placed by niall to harry. it’s ridiculous! i get punished but the moment that scumbag” – louis guesses she means zayn – “comes back to school everyone praises him.”

“maybe because his father is the governor of the central bank,” louis thinks.

“that’s the only reason he was allowed back into school,” says gigi. this is new information for louis.

“you can’t let that stuff get to you.”

“i know,” she says, resting her head on the back of her hands. “but sometimes i wish people in this school were mature. like you,” she adds.

“the ban will lift soon, it did for harry, it will for you.”

“thanks for speaking to me,” she smiles. “honestly, even kendall isn’t talking to me and she is supposed to be my best friend. we’ve been through so much, not even letting small crap like bans get between us.”

“you underestimate the power of styles,” liam drawls, setting his phone upside down on the table. gigi narrows her eyes at him. “sure, everybody obeys whatever taylor and niall say, they are the king and queen of the school but with harry, it’s because people genuinely like him and would do anything to get his attention even if it means hating whoever he doesn’t like.”

“sounds like a cult.”

“you’re one to talk,” liam scoffs. “last year when harry just broke up with taylor for the a thousandth time, you jumped his bones!”

louis turns his head slowly to gigi who shakes her head and shrugs her shoulder. “it was a long time ago,” she explains to louis. louis gapes. this is new to him. “how did you _not_ know about us?” she asks, sounding offended.

“he slept with many people that summer, so don’t feel too bad,” liam teases sarcastically. “pretty sure you weren’t in the top ten.”

gigi shoots daggers at him with her eyes. she _tsk_ ’s him then turns to louis. “anyway, sorry about the whole sleeping with harry.”

“well when you find your boyfriend has slept with half the school, you’re not surprised anymore,” he spits. liam looks up from his phone and gigi stares at him. he laughs off the awkwardness between the three of them. he sighs in relief when their teacher walks in and begins by talking about chance the rapper.

 _great!_ he sighs. not this again!  


**=     =     =     =**

** **

  
seeing as louis has football practice every wednesdays, harry had taken it upon himself to join the paint club that meets every wednesday after school just like he had decided at the begin of the semester. if he is being quite honest, he wants to stay longer in school just because louis is too and they can spend more time together after… doing whatever, as long as they are spending it in each other’s arms.

and also for anastopoulos.

except…

his cheeks burn as he gets the image of him and louis cuddling with each other in louis’ bed up in his cold attic. honestly, no amount of blankets can add a few numbers to increase the low temperatures.

he shuts his locker and takes the long, long walk to the art block with his brand new art materials. he bumps into taylor as he is approaching the humanities block and she lights up upon seeing him.

“hey baby,” she greets, her lips lingering on his cheek. “it’s been way too long.”

“this hug is way too long.”

“since when did you hate my hugs?” she giggles. she twirls her flying ponytail in between her french manicured fingers. “i missed you.”

“how was egypt?” he asks walking towards the art block. she follows him and he sighs a little. does she not have cheerleading today?

“hot,” she sighs. she slips her arm with harry’s. harry steps away from her and yanks his arm off her. “what?”

“you know what.” he picks up his speed.

“honestly, you can’t be mad about our relationship being a business deal?”

“i am and always will be. i expected that from my parents but not my girlfriend!”

“sometimes you make me frustrated,” she cries, “and i’m glad we’re not dating because of that. but other times,” her voice lowers suggestively, “i miss us. what we were was undeniable. we were epic.”

“we were not.”

“why were you going to the art block?”

“it’s none of your business but i’m joining the paint club.”

“why?” she wonders, her red lips in a snarl. “that’s lame and pathetic. let’s go for a drink at pawpaw, like old times with me, you, and niall.”

“bye taylor,” he says pushing open the doors to the art block. he turns right where the club meets and finds several people in the class already. at least he sees zayn is in the class. he sits near him and surprise surprise taylor had walked in behind him and sits in the same circle table as him and zayn.

“you’re back zayn?” she asks feigning surprise.

“yeah.”

“don’t you have cheerleading?”

“i like to paint.”

“you can’t draw to save your life.”

“i’m a good artist,” taylor flips her ponytail, “you’ve just never seen my designs. ask  zayn.” harry turns to zayn who blankly looks back at taylor without answering her. “i am though,” she says to harry.

the paint club coordinator walks through the doors with flair and flamboyance. he is dressed in bright pink from shoulders to toe – save from his shoes which are lilac. he has golden brown hair that looks more like a wig than actual hair, his eyes are glittering while gazing around at the class and not forgetting his over-the-top american accent.

“let me introduce you to this semester’s painter and artist provocateur mentor,” he announces standing at the front of the class with his hands on his hips like a soldier, “me!”

he flips his golden blond hair and glees at everyone. “i am painter lockhart the great.”

“who are you anyway?” scoffs a black-haired girl. “we don’t get nobodies to lead the clubs in school.”

“i am da vinci’s great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great the great grandchild,” he proudly announces. he slowly walks around the classroom listing all his achievements that if the class is being honest, should not be announced with as much pride as painter lockhart the great says them. “lastly, i have two incredible paintings in the mark troy london gallery and nine in the british museum. well those are my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather’s but technically,” he smiles proudly, “they run in the da vinci family.”

“what are the two paintings in the mark troy london gallery?” asks a student seated by the door. harry’s ears peak. mark troy is louis’ biological father who is trying to reach out to his son but louis wants nothing to do with him.

“one of a ship being attacked by an octopus and another of a glorious, silver basilik,” he says with his chest puffed out.

“but only brilliant and innovative paintings get to be at his gallery, how did those make it?” laughs a student.

“enough,” he roars. “i, painter lockhart the great, shall not be mocked. in my class,” he proclaims, still walking around the class, the heads of the students following him around, “i will not tolerate mediocre, unexceptional drawings. i want _passion_ from your drawings, i want _life_ from your paintings, i want raw, something from the heart, something buried deep into your conscious that you never thought was there.” he stops in front of the class once again, his hands set firmly against his hips. “that’s what mark troy saw in my two paintings.”

he turns around then jumps on the desk sitting there. he clasps his hands together, beaming his 1000-watt smile at the class. “before we begin, i’d like to know all of you. tell me your name, your hobby and name one dead person from the last millennium that you’d like to dine with.”

harry frowns, what an odd question from a teacher. the girl sitting by the door begins. she mentions her name, her hobby and leonardo da vinci has someone she would like to dine with. the happiness on painter lockhart the great is unparalleled when the girl by the door mentions his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather as someone she would dine with. harry rolls his eyes, this is not what he thought paint club would be, for sure.

it is not a big club with many people therefore it is his turn to introduce himself in no time. he clears his throat. “i’m harry styles. my hobbies include playing tennis and modelling. one person i would dine with from the previous millennium is ludwig van beethoven.”

“briliant!” painter lockhart the great roars cheerfully at harry. “my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather was just as amazing as beethoven. next.”

“taylor waldorf. my hobbies include manipulation and scheming and also looking fabulous. one person  would dine with is my great-great-great- aunt who was a magnificent lady.”

“i’m sure she was, though not as amazing as da vinci,” he brags.

and on and on the introductions continue…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha! potterheards, where you at? of all the professors i could add i just had to have prof lockhart as he was the wackiest professor in hogwarts.... so he'll be the Painter Club instructor [= this is gonna be fun =p


	63. 0.62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's chuck bass' duck and pig party...

 

> **his shoulders slump at the idea that he has chosen the wrong people in his life and has had to live with his choices every day**

 

“we’re watching _purge: election_?” asks mckenzie. she is snuggled tight to harry in her batman onesie, harry donned in a custom-made ysl onesie, her head laying on his warm chest facing the large home theatre in harry’s home cinema.

“of course.” he presses play and the movie begins.

mckenzie earlier woke up feeling groggy, tired, embarrassed, sad… basically, she was cramping. this morning when harry had gone to wake her up for school, he found her out of bed and sitting by the window pane looking glum.

 

_his eyes shifted to the bed, spots of blood on the white sheets, and then at her, holding herself making her appear small. he walked to where she was crouching and wrapped his arms around her body._

_“what do you need?”_

_“i’m so embarrassed,” she said, quietly. “i’m mortified.”_

_“it doesn’t matter—”_

_“your housekeepers are going to know i’m on my period,” she whined, “and i’m meant to have my menstrual cycle in check but it came this morning and i didn’t know because i was asleep and t—”_

_“what do you need, k?” he asked her softly, his palms cupping her cheeks. his gaze shifted down to her body, still donned in her batman pjs that he bought her some time ago, then back to her trembling lips. mckenzie was hundred per cent a go-getter, strong and super confident but at times she was not and harry loved her all the same._

_“there was this time i was at a sleeping over at albert’s place and i got my period at the time….”_

_mckenzie ducked her head further down between her knees, harry holding her fingers in his. he lifted his hand to her blonde hair, tucking a piece of it behind her ear. he listened to her horrible narration of how albert looked at the horrified spots of blood on her rear and his bed, lashing out at her for being nasty, for the disgusting mess. unfortunately for her, albert had called his friends and they came to see the spots of blood, making fun of her, all the while she was in the bathroom, trying to clean herself up, and hearing their laughs through the bathroom door._

_“why didn’t you call me?”_

_“you were on a date with louis, i didn’t want to—”_

_“listen to me k,” harry pressed, gripping her hand tightly. she peered through her thick eyelashes at him. “no matter what, whether it’s on a date with louis, or i’m shopping at ysl for their new collection, or racing my father’s jaguar down the highway, or even in fooking paris, you call me, you call me loud and i’ll come right back to you. i promise you this.”_

_mckenzie stared at him, stunned._

_“i keep telling you that you’re beautiful beyond description, you’re fierce as fook, you strive like a model, and curse like a bottle,” mckenzie smiled at harry, a small one. harry smiled widely back at that, a win for him. he ventured on. “and nobody, i mean nobody, should make you feel small for being a woman. i couldn’t be any more proud of you, seeing you grow each day becoming more of who you are, and loving every inch of your body, personality, and at times, craziness._

_“so what if you get your periods in the middle of the night and not get a tampon, or pad, or whatever? so what if you have a little spotting on your white jeans? so what?” eyes full of hope, mckenzie looked deeply into harry’s burning eyes. “you know, more than anything, i will get you whatever you need. whatever you want because i may not know the pain of cramping, or periods, or whatever, but what i do know is that it’s not nasty. i wouldn’t mind buying tampons, i don’t mind asking which ones you want, i don’t mind washing your stained clothes and sheets, i don’t mind doing all these things for you.”_

_“you’re horrible.” the smile on her lips betrayed her words and harry chuckled. he pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. “thank you,” she whispered._

_“now,” he said after their embrace. “today, you and i are going to literally spend the day on the couch, or the home cinema, doing nothing but making you feel good.” he saw mckenzie’s eyes quickly shift to her bed, then back at him. “don’t mind about the bed sheets, i’ll have everything sorted. now, what would you like before i draw you a bath?”_

_“i ran out of tampons,” mckenzie said quietly._

_“luckily i have spares,” smiled harry. “don’t move.”_

_he came back later with three boxes of various in his large hands. mckenzie laughed lightly at the sight, and took the box in the middle. she excused herself, heading to the bathroom. he then headed out of her bedroom, and down the hall, to the master bathroom. the master bathroom was essentially a room, spacious and humongous, with various bathtubs in it. yes, bathtubs. and even a mini pool. he headed to the normal sized bathtub, mckenzie’s favourite, and ran her a warm bath._

_he poured two bath bombs inside, yellow and blue are her favourite. once he had made sure the water is warm, there was a bucket of cooled champagne, an assortment of various snacks: dark chocolate, strawberries, m &ms, two bars of kitkats, five packets of oreos, and other goodies that he himself wanted to eat binge on._

_he pushed the door to mckenzie’s bedroom to find her standing before her bed. he gently tugged on her arm, drawing her eyes from the bed to his. “i drew you a bath.” he kissed her temple, lingering. “take as long as you’d like, i’ll take care of this.”_

_she quietly nodded. she took a quick glance at the bed then walked off to the master bathroom. he called out for his housekeepers via a green button on the wall by the pink door.  two came in to take the sheets away, another two came in with fresh sheets, two more came to air out the room, and two more to take the clothes in his hands with instructions to put them in the dryer. he waited when mckenzie was finished with her bath, she slipped into clean clothes that are warm, not cold and tight._

 

mckenzie reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, barely 22 minutes into it. she sits up straight to face harry, who is popping skittles into his mouth, and grins widely.

“what?” he asks her, his mouth stopping to move in circles.

“tell me the story again,” she jumps up and down on the spot.

harry rolls his eyes. “you’ve already heard it, i don’t see why i should say it again.”

“pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” she whines like a little girl. “i love the story. it’s beautiful and anything featuring larry stylinson, i’m in it.”

“well you and liam are larents,” harry pops in more skittles into his mouth, “you’ll swoon over anything, including him wearing my sweatpants.”

“lou wears your sweatpants?” mckenzie shrieks. “which ones?”

“the black one with the number 9 on the side.”

mckenzie dramatically leans against the couch-wall, swooning and, “aah!”-ing. “you’re so perfect. the both of you. no wonder he said ‘i love you’ to you.” she sits back up straight. “c’mon, h, tell me.”

“when i do can we watch _purge: election_?” asks harry, giving in to her requests. mckenzie gleefully claps loudly, her body swinging from left to right. harry chews, before swallowing the rest of his skittles. “alright—”

“start with ‘once upon a time’ like a fairtytale,” interrupts mckenzie.

“we aren’t a fairytale.”

“you sort of are.”

“but this was yesterday, so technically ‘once upon a time’ doesn’t—”

“it makes the story better.”

harry sighs. “fine.” he clears his throat. “once upon a time, louis and i—”

“larry stylinson.”

“ _louis and i_ ,” he says, narrowing his eyes at her, “were in the library during our history lesson seeing as our teacher didn’t show up. so i proposed we play scrabble.”

mckenzie rolls her eyes, and under her breath says, “do you play anything else?”

harry playfully shoves her, smiling knowingly because really, it is true. “anyway, we agreed to play scrabble, the winner gets to choose the location for friday night, our date night. so we started playing, i was clearly winning – i had over 200 points and he barely had 70.”

“here it comes!”

“soooo,” he stretches the word, “it was my turn to play and i played ‘blossom’ except my ‘m’ fell to the floor. i bent down under the table to pick it when i heard a faint, ‘i love you’ but i didn’t think much about it. i got up from the floor and sat down and louis repeated, ‘i love you.’”

mckenzie squeals.

“i-i was stunned to be shocked,” he says, maintaining eye contact with her. “he got me by surprise for sure, i didn’t know what to say, how to act…” he shakes his head while fumbling with his thumbs, “respond.”

“you said thank you!” mckenzie sighs, her chin resting on her knuckles. “honestly, that was a dick move.”

“i know,” he grunts. “but i didn’t know what else to say after he told me he loves me. i mean, what else should i have said?”

“‘i love you too’?” mckenzie tries.

“but… i’m not sure. i don’t know if i love _love_ him. i mean, yes i love _love_ him but i don’t know if i love love _love_ him, you get?”

“all i know is that you’ve used too many loves in that sentence.”

“after i said ‘thank you’ he was like, ‘maybe we should go for lunch before your bananas are over,’” he says imitating louis’ yorkshire accent. “and i just nodded and we ate lunch. it was a bit awkward but thank goodness for trisha and her rants about how her minions are a hassle that made us be less awkward.”

“you’re a walking awkward stick, h, a little surprised this isn’t, well, an awkward mess.”

he sighs, leaning his head against the couch-wall. he runs his fingers through his hair while mckenzie munches on a couple of oreos. “i mean, i do love him. i love how he gets me. i love that he understands when i want to talk, and when i don’t. i love waking up next to him. i love the smell of lemons, and now whenever i see lemons i think of him immediately because he is home. he taught me that a home isn’t a building but a body with a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm and an array of piercings, and a doncaster accent.

“i love that he does things for me, despite how small he thinks they are, they are huge. he took me to the london symphony even if he hates classical music; he came to a horse show with me dressed in skinny jeans and a tank top and he couldn’t have been any happier, he dressed up for the debutant ball because he knew how much it meant to me. i mean, he wore a bloody suit. like the full deal, pants, coat, shirt, tie, shoes… everything. he had it all. and i know he’d do so much for me just because i asked him.”

“all that is sweet and all but what’s something about louis that stands out?”

“so many things all at once. i like the look he gets when he is lost in thought, or when he becomes angry and starts dropping ‘f’ bombs like it’s his second nature to say it, how he bites his lip when he sees me, when he looks down when he walks to make sure he has tied his shoelaces, or when we are just the two us, and he is smoking a cigarette, i swear he has never looked calmer, or when he smirks, or the abrupt laugh he has, the half-smile he gives me after kissing my jaw, or when he looks at the waiter with our food, all oozing with happiness you’d think he won the lottery… all of this makes him beautiful.”

“stalker!” mckenzie snorts.

harry is unfazed. “but one thing i think is the most beautiful about him is that he is kind. do you know he isn’t following the ban we’ve put on gigi?” he asks, amused by the fact completely. “he is still talking to her. not even bloody kendall is.”

“kendall will do anything for you,” she rolls her eyes. “she was your first, after all, and you hers.”

“don’t remind me,” he grunts, burying his head in her neck. he adjusts his body, cuddling up real close to her, his head gently laying on her shoulder. mckenzie tilts her head to lay on top of harry’s, their fingers intertwining on top of her thigh.

“there’s one thing that truly say that louis has made me realise and it’s something no one has ever been able to show me,” he says, his gaze on their threaded hand. “it’s not that i’m handsome, not that i’m smart or nice. none of that.”

“what is it?”

“he showed me that i was important, that there’s a reason i’m here. he made me feel like the world was fooking lucky to have me, not the other way round like everyone reminds me. actually, everyone else makes me feel like i’m unimportant and i shouldn’t be here. not louis. and he told me that i should stop saying ‘i’m fine’ when my soul’s bleeding. that i should stop looking to the chandeliers hoping tears won’t overflow. i should stop taking people’s shit and walk away.”

“i agree with him there. but you’ve stopped doing that. you’re slowly coming out of your shell and showing everyone what a stunning, richy pearl you are,” mckenzie states excitedly.

“i don’t know what is scaring me to be honest,” admits harry, speaking extra slow than he normally does. the soothing feeling of mckenzie running her fingers through his hair lulling him. “the three words are on my tongue but i can’t say them aloud, i can’t pronounce them. i feel the three words like ink on my skin, showing the world what i feel deep in the abyss of my soul,” he proclaims dramatically, “but i become tongue-tied over those three words.”

“you feel pressure to say them?”

“that’s the thing, i don’t feel pressure. louis isn’t taylor, who forces me to say ‘i love you’ even when i don’t feel it. i don’t know, k, i think i’m scared of being hurt, again.”

“louis would never.”

“i know,” he murmurs, his eyelids suddenly heavy. he slides down her neck and leans his head against her bosom. “sometimes i think i loved him since we were partners in mrs maths’ english class. or when he hugged my lambo like a prostitute. or i think it was love when he wasn’t following the ban made by….”

by now, harry’s words are incoherent, mckenzie not hearing anything. she continues running her hand through his shoulder length hair. harry continues murmuring under his breath, not hearing mckenzie suggesting they go for chuck bass’ duck and pig party in his prestigious hotel.

“‘duck and pig’?” asks harry, getting out of his bentley and handing the keys to the valet. he waits a moment or two for mckenzie to emerge out of the car in her stunning 7-inch heels. the both of them, as is their tradition, match their outfits and today is cute piglet emojis on harry’s gucci shirt, and mckenzie skin-tight dress.

mckenzie slips her arm with harry’s and they both make their way into chuck bass’ hotel. “that’s what he texted me. sometimes i feel like chuck bass just gets stupid names to party.”

“who doesn’t love chuck’s parties?”

he party is in full swing and everyone who is anyone is at the party. it is honestly a surprise how the both of them were going to spend their time _at harry’s mansion_. as soon as the elevator doors open, mckenzie is pulled away from harry by her friends and liam pulls harry straight to the bar.

“you didn’t answer your phone!” he yells above nicki minaj’s _super bass_. he notes liam is dressed according to the theme with bowtie of a duck. “this party is the sickest! why did we ever stop going for chuck bass’ parties?”

“when did you get here?” he loudly asks, after gulping down the shot he and liam have just clinked.

“like an hour ago,” liam yells. “where is louis? i thought you’d be coming with him?”

“we’re… we’re sort of not talking,” he replies above the blasting music.

“you’re breaking up?” liam gasps loudly, his tot glass halfway to his tipsy lips. “why?”

“we’re not.” harry shakes his head. he steals liam’s glass of tequila, and scrunches his face bitterly. “why do you honestly like tequila? it tastes like piss!”

“vodka is not strong enough,” liam yells back, his hands already holding more shots. “here’s,” he hands harry one, “to forget.”

harry nods. “this is what i need. chuck’s parties are always to forget the night away, right?”

“oi! oi!” liam cheers above nicki minaj’s melodies blasting through the party of drunken teenagers. they clink and gulp down their drinks. “dance?”

“fook yeah.”

the both of them swim through the crowd and what they believe is the dance floor and move their feet to nicki minaj, this time it is _pound the alarm_ playing through the crowds of teens. they dance, moving their feet, hips, and hands shooting up in the air. 2,3,4 hours later, harry finds himself having thrown up twice, tried smoking a blunt but stops because he forgot why he stopped smoking it, drunk, sobered up, then gotten drunk again, this time more as he drowned almost an entire bottle of scotch whiskey.

somewhere in the back of his foggy, drunk mind he should probably head home, or call a cab and leave his car because drunk driving is not something he should engage in but he dances away that thought.

he feels warm hands sliding underneath his shirt which is fully opened for all to see his toned abs and tattoos glistening in sweat. he presses his back against whoever it is behind him, the hands swaying his hips to yet another nicki minaj song. he lifts his arms back and pulls the face whoever is grinding up behind him – _oh!_ someone is hard already – to the space on his damp neck. 

curiousity gets the better of him and he turns around to see the mysterious man swaying his body gracefully. harry blinks several times, the whiskey in his body affecting his vision. he gives up on trying to know who it is when wet lips are on his. harry, after his initial shock, moves his lips against the boy’s lips. the boy wastes no time in shoving his tongue down harry’s throat which harry complies with, having missed _snogging_ _strangers_.

yes, it is a thing that harry has. he loves kissing strangers – he loves kissing anybody and nobody, it is his thing. he simply loves kissing, the art of kissing, the feel of someone else on you, tasting someone, connecting with them on a level that words cannot do, and also, he is a sucker for french kissing. oddly, the people at school know that harry loves french kissing and therefore when you are with a (drunk) harry, french kiss him, not normal kiss him, just go straight to the frenching and you are his.

harry pushes the man off his lips, feeling something rising up in his throat. he rushes to the toilet but decides last minute to head to the kitchen sink and puke out his guts. he turns on the nozzle, watching his insides going down the drain.

“harry!” someone shouts from behind him. harry turns around to see zayn grinning widely, his eyes wavy, and holding two glasses of a brown drink. “drink up! let’s have fun!”

harry takes the glass of the drink, drowning it down in two gulps. “more,” he grunts, his throat burning.  he follows zayn to the free bar, his arms brushing with sweaty ones, and girls throwing themselves at him. zayn hands him the same drink, and he immediately gulps it down, ignoring the burn on his throat, and, he did not know it was possible, oesophagus.

“you look pissed,” zayn says, somewhere around him, his voice not so loud.

“what?” harry shouts above nicki minaj’s _va va voom_. “does chuck not play anything else apart from nicki minaj?”

“it said ‘all nicki’ on the e-vite,” zayn says, his voice sounding far away to harry’s gorgeous ears. “you don’t look so good. you need to go home. let me call louis….”

“no,” harry shakes his head, managing to hear what zayn has said. “i need to dance it away. i need to drink it away.”

“wait here!” zayn instructs.

from past experience, that usually means he is about to be taken home. or have sex upstairs. but since it is _zayn_ , he will most likely be going home. he makes his way upstairs, or halfway upstairs before tony, the lad who has the biggest crush on harry, finds him making his way up.

“going somewhere?” asks tony, a blond girl standing beside him. her hair looks messy and her skirt zipper is on the front while his hair is out of place and his shirt buttons are all opened.

“no,” harry shakes his head. his grip on the railing slips and he collapses on the stairs. he hears tony mutter something before his hands and around harry’s middle and holding him up. “i’m fine,” he grunts. he does not hear whatever tony says but before he knows it, he is in one of the many bathrooms of chuck bass’ hotel, near the white toilet.

“are you alright?” asks tony worriedly.

“yeah,” he mumbles unconvincingly. “why?”

“you’re drunker than you usually are drunk.”

“i drank an entire bottle of—,” his palm slaps his lips and his cheeks are blown. he wills himself not to vomit, not in front of tony with the huge crush on him. “drank bottle of whiskey.”

“what?”

“i drank an entire bottle of some hard whiskey.” harry leans the back of his sweaty, hot head against the lip of the bathtub, loving the immediate cooling effect it is giving him. tony leaves the bathroom door open and makes his way to where harry is seated on the floor. “thank you.”

“for?” he laughs nervously.

“walking me upstairs. and interrupting whatever was going on with you and that girl,” harry says, his head still leaning back on the cool, white bathtub. the music changes but not the artist, just the song. “why is chuck playing nicki minaj?!”

“the music theme is nicki minaj,” tony chuckles softly. his head is looking down on his lap where his fingers are fumbling with each other. his whole body tenses when harry gently palms his fingers. he looks sideways at harry who is drunkenly gazing at him. “what?”

“it’s not secret you have a huge crush on me,” he smirks knowingly at tony and blinks to steady his vision, “and you’ve told the entire lacrosse team the things you’d do to me if i wasn’t dating my boyfriend.”

he cannot even say his name.

tony coughs uncomfortably, feeling hot all of a sudden. “i… it’s not… it never… that’s all… it’s not true...”

“oh no?” harry hotly whispers to tony’s ears. “so the tasteless things you’d do to me are all lies? how you’ll shove me up against the wall, bite every inch of my skin because you think i like it rough?” he purposefully makes his voice gruff. “none of it is true?”

 tony’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he does not know how to think what with harry’s hand sliding between his inner thigh and going up to his hard crotch, his crush’s hot breath on his neck, or his husky voice that is holding his heart ransom. he feels harry’s warm hands lowering his face and harry’s lips feather touch on his.

“kiss me,” he commands tony.

“don’t you dare!”

tony quickly looks towards the bathroom to find niall standing there with his arms folded across his chest.

“go away niall,” harry slurs.

“tony leave.”

“don’t,” harry whispers in his ear.

tony is at a loss. he glances at niall’s eyes narrowed at him and the smell of unicorns and sex overpowering him he does not want to leave. niall marches into the spacious bathroom, saying, “we will leave then!” and drags harry out of the bathroom and into one of chuck bass’ many, many rooms.

“you’re a cockblock, niall james horan,” harry mutters once his body bounces on the bed, face-down. “fooking cockblocker number one.”

“you were about to fook the daylights out of tony. do you know he would go blabbing to the entire school about it? and then you two would be the talk of school.”

“he was willing.”

“everyone is willing to fook with you but not him.”

“why not? it’s been a while anyway.”

“trouble in paradise?” niall mocks. harry groans into the bedcovers before turning around to find niall seated like a pretzel leaning against the bedframe.

“how are you sober?” he asks him instead.

“i’m just tipsy.”

“niall’s never tipsy at parties, especially chuck bass’ parties with fooking nicki minaj playing every second,” he growls palming his face.

“ _starships_ isn’t a bad song,” niall smirks, arms folded across his chest.

“why are you being nice to me? last time i checked, you and i aren’t friends. not even colleagues. we’re just two people to each other, that’s all.”

“with the week i’ve been having, you’re my best company at this pig party.”

“trouble in paradise with taylor?” harry mocks. harry absentmindedly scatches his stomach where his gigantic butterfly, or moth, or whatever tattoo is. he does not know. he is drunk, lay off him. niall bites down on his bottom lip, watching the entire action with intense interest.

“why are you this drunk? shouldn’t you be with peasant boy at home watching some sappy movie?”

“he wants me to get a hiv test and i’ve been avoiding him ever since.”

“why?”

“i told him about marrit, mathilde… everyone,” he says his eyes holding niall’s. “he knows nearly all of them, including zayn, and that’s when he decided i should get tested before we have sex.”

“that’s a dumb idea.”

“he thinks i’m positive,” harry blurts out.

“when was the last time you even had sex?”

“in july,” harry says honestly. niall raises an eyebrow. “i went to iceland by myself before the debutant ball, exploring and whatnot, when i met this italian tourist who was having a hard time checking-in into the hotel so i did the translation and one thing led to another, we had sex.”

“whoa!” niall chuckles, “that’s the longest without sex you’ve gone, right? are you becoming celibate?”

harry groans loudly, his arms covering his eyes.

“does he know?” he quietly asks harry.

“no,” he says quickly, shaking his head against the bed covers. “i can never tell him. it would kill him.”

“it doesn’t take long to have sex with the harry styles, so why the wait? is he a virgin?”

harry cackles. “no. he… he just wants to be sure, i guess.”

“why the fook would you tell him how many people you’ve slept with?”

harry shrugs. niall sighs loudly. he lowers his body and lays side by side with harry. “he said he loves me.”

“wow!”

“yeah.”

“what did you say?”

“thank you.”

“so that’s  why you’re drunk,” niall concludes. “do you love him?”

“yeah, of course but i can’t say those three words to him and i don’t know why.”

niall does not know how to respond, opting to remain quiet. the sounds of _shakin it for daddy_ by nicki minaj seeping through the room’s walls. harry slides his fingers around niall’s wrist placing his hand on his own hot, bare chest. when niall does not protest, harry guides him down his chest, niall’s palm feeling _all of sweet harry_.

“you haven’t shaved?” asks niall under his breath when his fingers trail past harry’s happy trail.

“got lazy,” he mutters. he lets go of niall wrist. “please,” he silently begs.  niall fingers play with his waistband. “i know you want it to. taylor’s not what you imagined in bed, is she? she’s fooking boring, makes you do all the work yourself.” he licks his lips. “i’ll get you off, too.”

niall hands lowers underneath harry’s briefs, holding harry’s hot, throbbing cock in his hands. it takes less than three minutes before harry’s eyes are rolling behind his head, his hips jerking as high as they can off the bed. harry gets off the bed and hovers above niall. he trails his lips down niall’s body. harry being more drunk than niall, takes longer to get niall to orgasm as he collapsed heavily on niall, saying his mouth is tired. the second time, he does it well, knowing how niall likes it with a little teeth, and he has come spilling into his mouth.

he collapses near niall, the panting sounds dying down as he zips his own jeans and belt. they both lay in silence, listening to the fading sounds of nicki minaj’s _the night is still young_.

“i miss being your friend,” harry says quietly to niall in the dark. niall tears his eyes off the ceiling to glance at him. “why are we nice to each other when we’re drunk?”

“it makes everything easier. you got everyone after the huge fight last year. you got liam, zayn, mckenzie, everyone and all i have is taylor.”

“but that doesn’t matter to me, you know that. you’ve always had me.”

“don’t get it twisted, styles.” niall sits up on the bed with his feet planted to the floor. harry sits up too, his chin resting on niall’s left shoulder. “just cause we’ve gotten each other off, or every time we’re both drunk at the same party, doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“what does it mean then?”

“it means you need to get that hiv test and i need to apologize to trisha, call her my girlfriend, and help her win the queen title.”

“taylor is not going down with a fight.”

“you forget draco malfoy is around so she’ll be pre-occupied with other things like prevent her family’s secrets from spilling thanks to malfoy.”

“well just like nicki minaj is singing, the night _is_ still young so i’m going to drink a little more, probably with k so that i don’t kiss anymore people,” harry says, getting off the bed, and buttoning his shirt.

“you’re much nicer when you’re drunk.”

“when i’m sober i remember i’m a rich prick called harry so obviously i’m going to be manipulative.”

“and i’m niall horan”

harry presses his lips to where he had been resting his chin on his shoulder. “see you around, niall.” 

he opens the door, looks back at niall standing at the door with him, then walks out of it. niall leans against the door frame watching his retreating back go down the stairs, manoeuvring around drunken and high bodies. drunken teens are walking in front of him, some following harry, others looking for an empty room. when harry is out of sight and the door has been slammed shut in his face for three teens to use, his shoulders slump at the idea that he has chosen the wrong people in his life and has had to live with his choices every day.

he should have chosen harry, he should have stuck with harry _since that day_. but because harry was all on his own, his back against the wall, and no one was saving him _that day_ , he chose the winning side which happened to be taylor’s and dr styles’ side. how the tables have turned now. harry is on the winning side, with everyone on his side. all he has is dr styles, his sodding divorced mother, and misery.

“see you around, styles,” he mumbles to himself, hand on his shoulder.

 

**=     =     =     =**

  
this morning harry’s boyfriend got a rude awakening when real estate agents came knocking on their door claiming that they were illegally living in the house. it continued with the police arriving on the scene to disrupt the feud between louis’ mother and the realtors, then next thing the tomlinson-deakin family knows was that they were forcefully being evicted with their belongings thrown out the window, and in the end they magically ended up eating breakfast in liam’s large mansion.

“thank you so much for letting us stay here,” johannah gives her thanks to liam for the umpteenth time. “right now i don’t know where we would be. homeless probably!”

“it’s my pleasure,” smiles liam and louis rolls his eyes. this is _rich_ _liam_ talking. “if it wasn’t for fizzy texting me what was going on this morning then i wouldn’t have come to help you out.”

“and that was uncalled for,” johannah chides her daughter across the large breakfast table. “you shouldn’t have done tha—”

“but mama, we’d be living on the streets!” fizzy points out.

“that’s besid—”

“what happened?” asks liam, interrupting them both.

“well apparently we have been living in someone else’s house for the last two decades. it is only recently when the original owner of the house decided to move back to the uk after living his entire life in japan.”

“is he the owner of the house?”

“and the land. however when i bought the house, i was told that the owner died of a long, terminal illness so you can imagine my horror when the realtors and police were knocking on my door at 5 in the morning demanding me to move out!”

liam chuckles into his coffee. “that’s quite funny.”

“and then,” johannah continues, “when i tell the realtor this, he laughs in my face stating that the owner is very much alive and would like to live in his original house. the one i am illegally in!”

“the horror,” liam laughs.

“what will you do now?” asks louis to his mother.

“arent’ you a real estate agent anyway, you can just claim your house back,” says liam.

“well not exactly. i think it’s time we move houses—m”

“thank goodness!”

“hallelujah!”

“‘bout time!”

“finally!”

johannah narrows her eyes at her children for a moment before turning to an amused liam. “i will start looking around for houses today.”

“like this one?”

“yes, please. i know a really good agent that will get you the best house on this block,” liam says all too happily.

“that we can afford!” johannah says, glaring at fizzy. “oh my! is that the time? off to school, all of you!”

“steve will drop them, don’t worry about it,” liam says and in a flash the chauffeur is standing by the doorway.

“it’s alri—”

“nonsense jo, you know it’s no trouble at all. i love helping you out, no matter what it is. plus, you’re busy looking for a house you won’t have time to pick up the kids. steve is the best chauffeur, he will drop them and pick them on time. then louis and i can ride together.”

johannah bites the bottom of her lip, unsure with liam’s plan. she sighs, giving in. “okay fine. but only for today, by tomorrow we should be out of your hair and into a new home.”

“a week,” liam says, “we agreed a week.”

“yeah mama, you said we’d stay here a week,” louis whines. his sisters are all too happy to join in and he know she is winning. if his stepfather, dan, hears that they get to stay a whole week at liam’s mansion – with liam all too willing – they will stay here for a week.

“we will talk about it during dinner,” she says and that is the end of that. except judging from liam’s twinkling eyes, it is not. not if _rich liam_ can help it. louis winks at liam whose smile widens.

liam and louis get to school an hour late – liam’s fault because this morning he decided to try out his new bugatti his father got for him as a present. louis decides to head to the library seeing as he has 15 minutes left of physics left and it takes literally 15 minutes to walk to the science block. plus, his next lesson is mathematics and their teacher left them work to do during their lesson so technically he is free.  
  


 **LOUIS:** Hi Mr YSL

 **LOUIS:** So I got to school late, Liam was busy driving his Bugati like a madman, we got kicked out of our house because apparently the owner wasnt dead…. SHE WAS LIVING IN JAPAN THIS ENTIRE TIME!

 **LOUIS:** So now were all living @ Liams for a week as Mama looks for a house. A WHOLE WEEK! I DONT THINK ILL BE SLEEPING ANYMORE!!!!

 **LOUIS:** I am going to live in Liams game room the entire week!!

 **LOUIS:** Sorry for spamming but Im in the Lib. Skipping Physics (I have 10min left of it) and for Maths our teacher is apparently in Italy for who knows what so I HAVE ANOTHER FREE LESSON until Lunch!

 **LOUIS:** Do you want to have lunch?

 **LOUIS:** I need to find a new series to watch because Ive watched everything!!!

 **LOUIS:** Thats not true! I have not watched ‘Outsourced.’ Its about this American man who goes to work in India because his entire company [Mid-American Novelties] has been outsourced there.

 **LOUIS:** Its meant to be funny. Actually, Ive seen two episodes already and it is!!

 **HARRY:** Is it funny?

 **LOUIS:** YOU’RE ALIIIIIIIIIIIIVE I WAS WONDERING IF ILL BE TALKING ALONE!!

 **HARRY:** I was in Higher Level Physics and it is torture. Liam waltzed into class like he owned the place, just SECONDS before the bell rang.

 **LOUIS:** He went for class? LOLOLOLOLOLOL

 **HARRY:** Now I have to drag myself to HL Math! #KMN

 **HARRY:** SORRY ABOUT THE EVICTION, ANGEL! LIAM EXPLAINED EVERYTHING :[

 **HARRY:** “YELLOW **:** Hi Mr YSL” Made me blush 100%

 **LOUIS:** Im “yellow” on your phone?

 **HARRY:** OF COURSE! Youre my sunny sun side that is always shining in my dark park.

 **LOUIS:** I sound like a crayon.

 **HARRY:** You’re the brightest crayon in my box!!

 **LOUIS:** #sapalert!

 **HARRY:** You’re the sappiest, you know that!

 **LOUIS:** Are we having lunch today?

 **HARRY:** Yep! Which yoghurt should we have today?

 **LOUIS:** Which one have we NOT had yet?

 **HARRY:** Watermelon, strawberry, blueberry, and apple. We’ve tried all other flavours.

 **LOUIS:** Alright.. Blueberry?

 **HARRY:** Cool. Three more to go and we’ll have tried ALL the 951835 flavours in the cafeteria.

 **LOUIS:** There is this scene in ‘Outsourced’ where this girl, Asha, is in an arranged marriage. Her boss, Todd, wonders why she wants an arranged marriage when love marriage is better…

 **HARRY:** #LoveMarriageAlways

 **LOUIS:** So then she uses a comparison of love and arranged marriage to soup.

 **HARRY:** Odd comparison.

 **LOUIS:** She says that love marriage is soup that grows cold over time while arranged marriage is cold soup that you heat over time.

 **HARRY:** Oh wow! That’s a… different way to see love.

 **LOUIS:** Right? It shows that you can LEARN to love someone.

 **HARRY:** Well the comparison is pretty awesome and kind of sad.

 **LOUIS:** Why?

 **HARRY:** Most people I know in my life have had love marriages and their ‘soup’ marriages have grown cold over the years – even months for some people. They don’t love each other anymore.

 **LOUIS:** So do you think arranged marriages are perfect?

 **HARRY:** I wouldn’t want to. Basically if I HAD never dumped Taylor and walked with her for the Debutant Ball then I would have proposed to her on Graduation and only in the 13th year of our marriage would she tell me that I was a business deal for my grandmother and her father.

 **LOUIS:** Well better love marriages then.

 **HARRY:** With endless divorce parties!

 **LOUIS:** And cake =]

 **HARRY:** I do love cake. Especially ice-cream cakes.

 **LOUIS:** You honestly have the worst taste in ice-cream! Everyone knows chocolate velvet is the best.

 **HARRY:** ICE-CREAM CAKE RIIIIIIIISE & LIVE FOREVER

 **LOUIS:** YOURE MAD HARRY!

 **HARRY:** #IceCreamKing

 **LOUIS:** Chocolate Velvet forever

 **LOUIS:** Did you have fun at chuck’s party? I saw the snaps =p

 **HARRY:**  I had a brilliant time.

 **HARRY:** See you @ lunch. My teacher is here.

 **LOUIS:** Tata butterfly =}

 

lunch time comes way faster than harry wishes because he has to face louis after last night’s events. lucky for him, on his way to the cafeteria kendall bumps into him and he momentarily forgets about snogging niall and giving him the good succ.

“hey harry,” she smiles. she quickly pecks his cheek then slings her hand to harry’s bicep. they make their way out of the mathematics block, heading towards the cafeteria.

“hey kendall!”

“you heading for lunch?” she asks, giggling slightly.

“yeah, you?”

“no. i’m heading out for lunch with gigi. she misses you by the way,” she squeezes his bicep lightly. “she honestly is sorry for what happened last semester during the school sleepover.”

“she shouldn’t have lied about it.”

“anyway, that’s not why i’m here,” she says. they arrive at the it block, and have to wade their way through the many students coming out of their classes for lunch. they not-so-gracefully push their way through the crowds, kendall’s arm plastered to harry’s bicep, and are making their way through the courtyard.

“what’s up?”

“it’s niall,” she says curtly. harry gives her a sideways glance and then looks ahead of him. “i’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that his mother wants to send him back to ireland with his father and you know that’s going to suck for him.”

“so? he should go back to ireland. at least we’ll eventually get some peace around here without his bickering nonsense.”

“harry,” she sighs, “it’s niall. he is still our friend, no matter how much we all hate him, we still care about him. we’re always there to help our own when they need our help and right now, niall is calling for help.”

“he told louis about julius when he had no right to,” harry spits. they are out of the courtyard, and kendall steers the both of them to walk around the drama block instead of going through the music block, which is a shorter route. “why are we going through the drama block?”

“you would have never told louis about julius anyway,” kendall points out. “plus, the whole school knows about you and julius it was only a matter of time before louis was hearing the rumors about him, and eventually what happened between you two.”

“he saw the video as well. only two people had seen that video, now it is five because of louis and trisha, thanks to niall who showed them the video.”

magically, the cafeteria comes into view. harry wonders how long this shortcut has been there seeing as he always used a longer route to get to the cafeteria.

“well?” asks kendall, dragging harry out of his thoughts. “are you going to help?”

“help with what?”

kendall stops walking and stands before harry, blocking his path to the cafeteria. plenty of students  are heading towards the cafeteria, others heading to the football pitch, and some occasionally staring at them.

“with niall! he is in serious trouble this time. he’ll be sent straight to ireland and he’ll kiss everything he has ever worked for goodbye, which includes your father’s company. part of him being on the board was to live in london, if he moves then he won’t be part of the board. also, he burned down the shop that was in the news yesterday.”

“what?” asks harry, frowning. “they said the fire was because of something in the kitchen.”

“it was niall. he’s self-destructing harry and we’ve got to help him.”

“no!” harry shakes his head. “you’ve got to help him. not me. all niall’s ever done is be cruel to me, my entire life, and now you want me to help him?”

“he told me about what you two did at chuck’s party,” kendall says. her lips tug upwards slowly, smirking brightly at harry. harry groans, running his hands through his brown hair. “now that that is out of the way, niall will tell everyone what you two did if you don’t help reverse his mother’s thoughts on him going home to ireland.”

“and if i say no?”

she lightly chuckles before stepping closer to harry. she tugs her chin up, her eyes falling on his kissable lips. “i’m sure if word got out that you cheated on dear louis, who trusts you so much, he’d be devasted. not forgetting the look on mckenzie, liam, trisha, the others about your little dick sucking. also, what will taylor think? or worse, if your parents hear you and niall? niall of all the people?”

“you wouldn’t dare!” he grits his teeth.

“i wouldn’t. just a slip of this to taylor and you know everything will go to hell. louis will never forgive you, and you know that. think about that before you decide not to help niall.”

kendall walks off somewhere behind him before he can even reply to her. the events of last night hit him hard, the touching, the kissing, the moaning, the hearts beating... niall. he should not have gotten shit-faced drunk. he really should not have, but alas he did. of course he will not tell louis. he cannot.

“what are you standing there for?”

harry blinks at the voice from behind him. he turns to find trisha, being followed by her minions, grinning at him. she links their arms together, dragging his feet to head to the cafeteria.

at the entrance of the cafeteria, trisha bumps her shoulders with _the_ draco malfoy. draco malfoy, despite the growing fear of his arrival, has not made much of an appearance. he has been in the background since school had began.

except that is his nature, the nature of the malfoys. they do not make noise, they work in the dark, in silence, within the shadows where they cannot be seen. it is only when it is far too late that people realize this entire time that the malfoy have been plotting and scheming behind their backs, and there is nothing they can do about it.

there is a reason why the entire family had been banned two years ago from the country.

draco malfoy makes his way out of the cafeteria, heading towards the football pitch. when he arrives he makes himself comfortable on the bleachers, watching the cheerleaders do their routine for the upcoming football match next week tuesday.

“hey!”

draco malfoy is startled by the voice as he had been spying on taylor waldorf and did not notice whoever it is walking up to the bleachers and sitting down on a step below his.

“hi.”

“i haven’t seen you around. you must be new,” she says, her accent not completely british.

his piercing silver eyes shift down at her. “i came this semester.”

“sorry i haven’t introduced myself, i’m sophia.” she extends her hand to his. “sophia smith.”

draco malfoy shakes her hand. “malfoy. draco malfoy.”

“draco or malfoy? which one?” she laughs, her eyes glittering in the afternoon sun.

“malfoy.”

she nods, then leans back and looks towards the football pitch at the football team training during lunch hour, too. draco malfoy frowns slightly, returning his attention to taylor waldorf. they watch in silence.

sophia smith is, well, stalking liam payne. she knows his schedule, from morning to evening, evening to morning, and she usually positions herself strategically on the days that the football team practice. she knows that he is currently single but is interested in some new girl from south africa, somebody zolo. but she is going to change that.

“who are you here for?”

“i’m sorry?” he asks her. taylor does a magnificent flip in the air, her blond ponytail flapping widly in the air.

“normally i’m here alone during lunch but it’s quite a surprise to see you, malfoy.”

“oh.” she turns sideways and looks up at malfoy. she crosses her leg, and for the first time malfoy sees she has red hair. odd, he did not notice that before. “i am… i like the quiet.”

“oh,” she says, her face breaking a little. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t know you like your quiet. here i am making conversation with a handsome boy in my film class and all he wants is a little alone time and i bombard…,” she bubbles as malfoy stares at her in amusement. “i should leave,” she abruptly stands up, “i’m so sorry! i should have—i’ll stop talking,” she nods quickly, “bye.”

“if you want liam’s attention you should talk to him,” he says and she stops descending the steps to the ground. she turns around and looks up at him. he gets off the bleachers, wiping any dirt off his dark green khakis and makes his way down to where she is standing. “if you really want his attention, talk to him. best way to get his attention.”

sophia is flustered. her head drops to her feet, intently studying her peep-toe heels. “i… i… i’m so em—how did you know?”

he shrugs. “you’re in what, five of my classes? you’re always seated two rows behind whatever seat he takes. you come here every lunch time when the football team is practicing. you’ve been bullying ms loko because you know she and liam have been rumoured to be dating—”

“it’s true!”

“it is. unless you do something about it then the rumors will become true and they will be more than just—”

“but i’m so much better than her,” sophia protests. “i’m much more clever, i’m richer than her, i’m taller, i’m a great kisser, my parents are real estate owners, and my great-great-great-great-great grandparents were the architects who designed the big ben.”

“you’re part of the smith family, right?” he asks her. she nods skeptically. she is usually wary of people who ask about her family members. “i don’t mean to pry, it’s just that it is not every day you find a smith, or _the_ smiths.”

“and it’s not every day that a malfoy gets a ban lifted from the government—yes, i’ve heard the stories about you.”

“so you knew who i was?”

“and to be honest, i don’t care,” she sighs, turning her attention to the football pitch where the members are stretching after their practice game. “i think you’re misunderstood and everyone is judging you based on stories your cousin is telling everyone.”

“my cousin?” he asks curiously.

“your cousin gigi has been telling everyone stories about you.”

“like what?”

“like you’re vicious, manipulative, asexual asshole who doesn’t care for anyone. your entire family are savages, you break families, tear down businesses that have taken generations to build, you collect secrets about important families in the country and keep them safe in a vault that you can use whenever you desire.”

“and what makes us so scary? every family does that. the waldorfs, the styles’, horans, paynes, you name it. they all do.”

“you’re cold, all of you. see with other families, they have bonded, made friendships, that have lasted decades with each other. they deny it, completely because they are constantly at war with each other but they love each other. but with the malfoys, you keep yourselves to yourselves, sort of like a preservation sort of thing. is there a reason for it?”

malfoy shakes his head, his head slightly down. he begins to walk, sophia jogging a little to catch up. she glances up at malfoy. his jaw is clenched and his eyes are neither glittering under the sun nor joyful, they are blank. dry, even. she looks back to the football team finishing their stretching and are heading to the lockers, then turns her attention back to the path they are walking to.

“i’ll meet you in class,” he says so suddenly. sophia blinks several times but malfoy does not wait for her to reply before he is heading off towards the languages block. he finds who he is looking for, chatting amongst her friends. “waldorf.”

she slowly turns her head to malfoy’s low, demanding drawl. she immediately pales, her lips parted and her eyes big and wide. she stares as he makes his way to her, unable to even move a limb. he waves his hand towards the girls who were around taylor and they walk off.

“waldorf, finally,” he smiles maliciously. “honestly, don’t you think it is time we properly meet?”

taylor recovers. she squares her shoulders and wears her family’s name with pride. “taylor waldorf to you.”

“well you’ve changed since i last saw you,” he says blankly. “how long has it been?”

“i have class, draco.”

“it’s malfoy,” he seethes. “malfoy to you, always to you. you don’t have the right to call me by my first name.”

“cut to the chase,” she says in a best neutral voice. on the outside she is the calm taylor, just like her father, but on the inside she is terrified. she is scared stiff about the malfoys, just like everyone else.

“i’ll start,” she says, surprising herself with the command she has in her voice. “whatever reason brought you back to the uk won’t last long. everyone here knows who you are. i do, liam, niall, harry, mckenzie, kendall, zayn, gigi… everyone. we know what you’re capable of, what you can do to our families and business and empires we’ve built for ages. but just like last time, we can banish you again but this time we won’t.” she takes a step forward. “i want to watch the malfoy family be tarnished. i want to watch you crumble before me, to see lucius malfoy beg for forgiveness, to see your mother narcissa choke on her own pride when i take everything she has built go down in flames. but you, you will be my biggest pride. i will make you feel every pain i suffered all those years back in illinois, i will ruin you, i will watch all your tears fall down your cheeks and i will make sure you bleed, make sure you stop breathing without you actually dying.”

“and how will you do that when you have no army?”

“what do you mean?”

“you see, i’ve been observing you. i know a lot about you, more than you may know.”

“what do you know?” taylor honestly tries not to shiver before his presence. malfoy takes a step forward and taylor takes two steps back without meaning to. malfoy harrumphs. 

“i know that harry styles broke your heart when he wasn’t your escort to the ball. i know that you keep niall on a leash because you want him to love you and only you. i know that liam hates you with a passion for what happened in hogwarts, which you call illinois for some reason now. i’ve seen you during chemistry when you mix the different chemicals and you think of potions with severus snape. i see the way you put all your energy in cheerleading because of the freedom it gives you. i see that you’re scared about my return because you don’t know what i’m going to do.

“but let me tell you. you took everything away from me; you took my life away from me. i lost my will to live because of you. the moment your father made all the families sign our banishment, you knew it would wreck my family and our businesses and investments. you knew how much it would hurt all of us, more than anyone. but here’s what i’ll do; i’ll take everything away from you. simple as that.”

“you can’t do that. for whatever reason you’re back, you’ll be gone soon, don’t forget that. i can easily banish you.”

“not this time waldorf, not this time.”

“you have nothing malfoy, or did you forget?” she smirks, gaining back her confidence.

“and soon you’ll know what that feels like.”

he gives her a once-over before turning on his heels and walking away from taylor. she lets out a breath she did not know she had been holding, leaning against the lockers behind her. her eyes flutter shut, trying to bring up her breathing to the normal rate.

draco malfoy walks in to film class, surprised that the teacher is not present yet, seeing as there is 26 minutes of class left. he makes his way to the back, passing the circular table where sophia and liam are sitting together, with louis as well. he takes the empty seat at the back of the class and plugs his black earphones, increasing the music.

“look at him,” liam sneers, the three of them at the table turning to look back at malfoy sitting alone with his book keeping him company. “he honestly deserves it.”

“why?” asks louis.

“you wouldn’t understand. back in freshman year, he did horrid things to people who wouldn’t follow him. you think taylor is a bully? he’s much worse; makes taylor seem like an angel.”

“what did he ever do to you?”

“not me in particular, because he couldn’t touch me what with being old money,” says liam, leaning forward on the table, “but with the malik family. he did horrid things to them, him and his father lucius. rumor has it in freshman year that zayn’s mother was undergoing chemo treatment but something went horribly wrong.”

“zayn’s mother?” asks sophia.

“i’ve never heard of her actually,” says louis. “to this day i just thought zayn… never had a mother.”

“what happened to her?” inquires sophia.

“you see, zayn’s mother knew vital information about lucius malfoy’s business that could wreck it. so they planned something horrible to zayn’s mother. for ages we all thought that she had been getting chemo but she was actually kidnapped one day on her way to the hospital for her session. for weeks she was tortured in some far place in london for the secrets.”

“wait, how did they know zayn’s mother had cancer? i mean, nobody knew.”

“malfoy knew,” liam says, his eyes glancing behind him quickly, “he watched, stalked, pretended to befriend zayn all in the name of getting information about his mother.”

“then what happened?” asks louis, leaning forward on the table.

“she died while being tortured. rumor has it she was at stage 3 of cancer and it was spreading quickly. very quickly. but here’s the twist, it wasn’t cancer she had, but godlycuc disease.”

sophia and louis glance at each other, making weird faces, then louis grunts, “what the fook is godlyuc disease?”

“nobody knows, nor do i, but what i do know is that you need treatment immediately once you contract it.”

“i’m confused. did she have cancer or god _something_ disease?”

“godlycuc disease,” says sophia. “honestly, louis do you ever listen? the cancer thing was a rumor but the truth was that zayn’s mother had the dreadful godlycuc disease.”

“you know it?” asks liam.

“my uncle had the disease. it’s apparently genetic and you cannot stop it. you will die, in like five years or something, but without treatment you will die within two weeks, a very, very painful death.”

“is that what happened to zayn’s mother?” gulps louis, worried about what zayn’s mother went through at the hands of the malfoy family.

“they took away her treatment, torturing information out of her, but she didn’t say anything, suffering in pain the entire time. she died in pain,” he ends grimly. “and alone.”

“that’s… horrid!”

“and you know what the worst thing is? they dangled the medicine tablets in front of her face, they kept it close to where she could reach it but because she was weak, the disease attacking your bones, she couldn’t reach them.”

the three of them turn back, looking at malfoy sitting at the back of class. liam is shaking his head, memories of zayn crying out his heart out at the news of his mother along with  his sisters and father. louis is frowning and wondering how any of these super rich kids survived freshman year without malfoy’s wrath and sophia turns to liam.

“how did they find her? how did zayn’s family find her?” she asks curiously.

“they buried her in the london cemetery.” louis and sophia gasp horrified. liam continues, his eyes on a chipped spot on the table, “marked grave and everything. it was horrid. i was there when draco himself rang the doorbell and told them that their mother was dead. in the london cemetery. buried.”

louis practically jumps in his seat. “did you go check? to make sure he wasn’t lying?”

“of course we did,” he retorts, insulted that louis would think otherwise. “it wasn’t hard to find. the grave was dug, seven feet deep, a white coffin in the hole. we dug out the coffin and inside was zayn’s mother, she was small. so small. she was bones, basically bones.”

“that’s outrageous! all because she knew a secret and didn’t want to tell? doesn’t give you the right!” louis cries with rage.

“now you know how we felt!” liam joins in, anger burning in his eyes. “we were all furious. but at the same time we were scared, because we all knew something about the malfoys and we wondered if we would be next. except, somehow, whatever zayn’s mother knew was so much worse.”

sophia cups her hand on liam’s wrist. “i’m so sorry.”

“it doesn’t matter. it was in sophomore year that we all signed a document banning the family forever. but now he’s back and it seems with vengeance.”

“who lifted the ban?” asks sophia. “i mean, it has to be _one_ of you.”

“that’s what i’m trying to figure out, it’s one of us—hey! where are you going?” liam asks when sophia abruptly stands up and stomps off towards draco malfoy.

“you!” she screams, catching the attention of everyone in film class. draco malfoy looks up from his _crime and punishment_ book to find a fuming sophia standing before his circular table. in the far back he can see louis and liam looking over his way curiously, and the other side is the class pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“you vile, evil dickless cunt!” she screams at him. “why would you do all those horrific things you did in the past? what, are you some sort of sadist for enjoying other people’s pain? do you enjoy torturing people? this is not your kingdom, king malfoy! you don’t have the right to take away someone’s freedom and life. you—”

he put his book down with a thud, shutting her up temporarily. “what’s this all about?”

“earlier,” she begins in a much calmer voice, “when i said i don’t care about all the stories your cousin gigi has been telling everyone, i lied. i thought she was exaggerating because, quite frankly, she doesn’t like you but now i know she wasn’t. all those stories, all those things that your father did, the things _you_ did, they’re true?”

“yes.”

“even zayn’s mother?” she spits at malfoy. the class gasps and chat in whispers among themselves. draco malfoy remains quiet. “how could you just sit there, listen to her painful wails? watch her, day in, day out, as she begged for mercy? how could go live with yourself every day when zayn wondered where his mother was?” she grabs his russian literature book and flings it at him. “how?” she throws her bracelets at his body. “how can you live with yourself?”

draco malfoy remains quiet.

“you’re a lowlife!” sophia yells. she swings her hand to draco’s pale cheek, hard. the class gasps. liam and louis’ mouths fall to the ground not believing their sight. sophia’s slap was so loud that it could be hard all the way to the hallway. “i hope you burn in hell for this shit!”

liam grabs sophia by the waist and drags her away from draco malfoy’s table, louis grabbing their belongings and walking out of class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAITED FOR SO LONG TO INTRODUCE DRACO, FINALLY, FINALLY, FINAAAAAALLY!!!! i'm too excited for this OH GOSH OH GOSH OH GOOOOOOSH


	64. 0.63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draco meets sophia at starbucks.

** **

> **it makes you more… human and less… malfoy.**

##  Scene 1

_**(SOPHIA SMITH is drinking her frappuccino and chocolate cookies at the same Starbucks where LOUIS TOMLINSON works when DRACO MALFOY is standing before her table, with a sorry look on his face. Sophia begins to pack her belongings.)** _

**DRACO:** Please don’t get up! I want to _(runs hand through his white blond hair)_ apologize.

 **SOPHIA:** _(narrows her eyes)_ You’ve got some nerve Malfoy! How can you even be sorry? It’s literally been two years. You can’t apologize for all the things you did.

 **DRACO:** That day in Film class when Liam told you about _(sharply inhales)_ what I did, I went to Zayn and apologized. Of course he didn’t hear me out so I asked him what should I do. He laughed bitterly saying I bring her back alive for I was the reason for her death.

 **SOPHIA:** _(hisses)_ Obviously.

 **DRACO:** I told him I will keep trying until he does.

 **SOPHIA:** Fat chance!

 **DRACO:** _(runs left hand through his hair nervously)_ I know he loves horses so I bought Lady Marie-Antoinette from Harry Styles, the day after the Film class. I gave fortunes of my family’s wealth to their family, I made deals and connections to ensure that Mr Malik’s job as the Governor of the Central Bank of London is not to be interfered with thanks to Daddy Waldorf but most importantly, every little detail of the Malik family, every single secret about their family, I erased it all last week. All of it.

 **SOPHIA:** All of it? _(doubting)_ You could be lying.

 **DRACO:** I asked Zayn and Mr Malik to be there when I erased everything, including our lawyers. From now on the Malfoys shall never manipulate the Malik family ever again _(SOPHIA remains silent, he looks at the empty seat to his right)_ Can I sit down, please?

 **SOPHIA:** _(recovers)_ No! What was the reason you did all those horrid things to your friends? To everyone? _(stalls, tucks red hair behind ear)_ I thought you were being honest, Malfoy?

 **DRACO:** Do you know the feeling you get when you’re driving and it’s pouring rain, you drive under a bridge and everything stops? It becomes silent and peaceful?

 **SOPHIA:** Yeah?

 **DRACO:** Then you finally get out from under the bridge and everything hits you a little harder than before?

 **SOPHIA:** Yeah…

 **DRACO:** Harry Potter was my bridge and Taylor and my father took him away.

 **SOPHIA:** Who is Harry Potter?

 **DRACO:** _(long-suffering sigh)_ The love of my life.

 **SOPHIA:** Sit.

 **DRACO:** _(sighs happily)_ Thank you.

 **SOPHIA:** I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about Harry, right? _(DRACO nods at the table)_ It’s okay. We’ve got so much time together as friends. But I’m curious, what was he like? I mean, for a while now you seemed to be asexual _(Draco chuckles)_ and I’m surprised you had someone you… loved.

 **DRACO:** I’m wrong in assuming I’m forgiven?

 **SOPHIA:** Damn right (chuckles) You’re insane if you think two years of torture will end in a puff. But you were sincere and the things you did for the Maliks were hard. For you.

 **DRACO:** (tiny smile) Had to do it.

 **SOPHIA:** Why?

 **DRACO:** Because you’re the only one who didn’t look at me with deep-seated hatred and fear. You said you didn’t care. At first.

 **SOPHIA:** Yeah, well, we all make horrible first impressions. Beyond the mask of superiority and being _you_ , you’re a dece guy.

 **DRACO:** _(light laugh. Brings eyes to look at SOPHIA)_ You were wrong when you said we’re incapable of love. The Malfoys are capable of love. Harry taught me to love, just like hate, you can be taught to love.

 **SOPHIA:** But all the things you’ve done to people, to Zayn’s mother, it’s hard to believe that—

 **DRACO:** _(hurt, interjects)_ Someone would love me?

 **SOPHIA:** Your words.

 **DRACO:** _(frowning)_ But he did.

 **SOPHIA:** I think I know why.

 **DRACO:** _(surprised)_ Why?

 **SOPHIA:** Because anger and bitterness are just the effects of the fear of being alone and not getting what you want. You get angry, make people fear you because they don’t like you. You instil so much fear that people around you please you, afraid to get on your bad side and for a split second you think it’s love. But it isn’t. It’s loneliness that you realize you’re feeling.

 **DRACO:** _(drawls)_ Funny. That’s what Harry said.

 **SOPHIA:** _(mimics a narrator’s voice)_ Don’t pity the dead, Sophia, pity those who grew up without love.

 **DRACO:** What?

 **SOPHIA:** _(chuckles)_ Something my grandmother used to say all the time. If I’m not wrong, am I the only person who is genuinely your friend without you instilling fear in them?

 **DRACO:** Harry Potter.

 **SOPHIA:** Apart from him. (DRACO remains quiety.) I am, aren’t i?

 **DRACO:** I did all those things for Zayn because of you. You and some of it for me because to be honest, I didn’t know what you were talking about at the Film class until I went home.

**LOUIS TOMLINSON walks to their table holding a Starbucks green pen and a small notepad.**

**LOUIS:** _(openly glares at DRACO)_ Anything to drink? Like someone’s mother’s medicine when it’s not yours?

 **SOPHIA:** _(grinning)_ Oh, Louis! Stop it. Malfoy and I are friends.

 **LOUIS:** _(loud whisper)_ With a murderer?

 **SOPHIA:** It was his father, not really him.

 **LOUIS:** _(hissing)_ Same difference!

 **DRACO:** I’m right here, Tomlinson.

 **LOUIS:** Ignoring you is what I’m doing, fucker.

 **SOPHIA:** I’ll have another frappuccino and _(looks to DRACO, he shakes his head)_ C’mon, you’ve got to order something.

 **DRACO:** _(gives in when Sophia pointedly looks at him)_ I’ll have your strongest coffee.

 **LOUIS:** _(ignores DRACO)_ Same frappuccino and another cookie?

 **SOPHIA:** Yes, Louis. Thank you!

**LOUIS TOMLINSON bitterly glares at DRACO MALFOY and walks off writing their orders on his small notepad.**

**DRACO:** So my coffee is going to have spit in it… _(SOPHIA laughs and DRACO is startled at the laugh but smiles despite himself)._

 **SOPHIA:** So what happens now? Are you going back to the old Malfoy?

 **DRACO:** There’s a reason I came back and I’ll have to be mean—

 **SOPHIA:** You just made a promise.

 **DRACO:** I came for Taylor Waldorf alone. She’s one of the reasons Harry Potter… left.

 **SOPHIA:** _(leans on the table)_ What do you mean ‘left’?

 **DRACO:** That’s what I want to find out from Taylor.

 **SOPHIA:** Why don’t you ask your father?

 **DRACO:** My father is not exactly… forthcoming with information as Taylor is.

 **SOPHIA:** She is?

 **DRACO:** _(firm)_ I’ll take everything away from her until she gives me what I need to know about Harry Potter. _(locks eyes with SOPHIA)_ And this I promise you.

 **SOPHIA:** No one is gunning for you, Malfoy. People despise you, even Zayn still does despite what you’ve done for his family.

 **DRACO:** _(dry)_ I don’t need people’s approval. I need to know about Harry and what happened to him. That’s all I care about, Sophia. Nothing else.

 **SOPHIA:** Draco...

 **DRACO:** _(surprised at SOPHIA using his first name, clears throat, honest)_ But please don’t leave me. You were right when you said I should burn in Hell for all the shit I’ve put people through. I’ve been walking in Hell for two years now, not knowing if my Harry is safe, if he is alright, wherever he is, I hope he finds apples to eat.

 **SOPHIA:** Apples?

 **DRACO:** _(smiling fondly)_ They’re his favourite. Always ate one per day. I’ve been spending the last two years wondering where he is. And in all that time I closed myself off, I became bitter, angry, I was always cursing at everyone. I had no friends, my absent parents could care less… I was alone.

 **SOPHIA:** And you couldn’t come back to the UK because of the ban. But who lifted it?

 **DRACO:** I don’t know, all I know is that it was and I was allowed back to the UK.

 **SOPHIA:** _(hesitant)_ Draco, he could be dead…

 **DRACO:** _(ducks head)_ I know. I wouldn’t be. _(runs fingers through his hair)_ What with everything I’ve done to everyone, I wouldn’t be surprised.

 **SOPHIA:** What then? You leave again?

 **DRACO:** I have nothing tying me down.

 **SOPHIA:** I’ll help...

**LOUIS TOMLINSON brings their orders and smirks michevously when he sets DRACO MALFOY’s cup of coffee.**

**SOPHIA:** _(laughing)_ I think he did spit in your coffee.

 **DRACO:** _(pushing the coffee to the side)_ Or worse things.

 **SOPHIA:** _(pours half of her frappuccino into her old cup and slides the new cup to DRACO)_ We share. _(DRACO opens his mouth to protest)_ No buts, Draco.

 **DRACO:** _(begrudgingly accepts the cup of frappuccino)_ Why does he even work here?

 **SOPHIA:** He said he wants the extra money to take Harry on better dates. _(DRACO scoffs into his cup)_ What? _(with a dreamy look)_ I think it’s romantic.

 **DRACO:** _(drawls)_ He needs to work at a better place than Starbucks.

 **SOPHIA:** It’s all about the effort. And thought.

 **DRACO:** Don’t tell me you find what he’s doing endearing?

 **SOPHIA:** You’re a lot of work, Draco. Pretty sure Harry found it hard to take you somewhere nice.

 **DRACO:** _(slight blush on cheeks)_ He often said no one ever could except him.

 **SOPHIA:** _(behind her cup)_ I’m sure.

 **DRACO:** I don’t need your help, anyway. I’m perfectly capable—

 **SOPHIA:** I’m pretty sure Harry wouldn’t mind me helping you.

 **DRACO:** He would say: help comes to those in dire need of it.

 **SOPHIA:** Well, look at that! Your boyfriend must have been a magician _(DRACO smiles secretly)_ A great one at that.

 **DRACO:** _(takes a sip of his drink)_ What about Liam?

 **SOPHIA:** Screw Liam!

 **DRACO:** He’s your crush! You have to get him before the South African girl gets him.

 **SOPHIA:** It wouldn’t last, me and Liam but you and I will. Friends are so much better in this world than passionate, romantic relationships _(DRACO shifts uncomfortably)_. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know you don’t have many friends and all so this—I… surely must be the most awkward girl getting herself in situations where she shouldn’t be if she had a— 

 **DRACO:** _(smirking)_ Brain-to-mouth filter?

 **SOPHIA:** _(laughing nervously)_ Yes!

 **DRACO:** Don’t worry. I had the same thing. I’d constantly be sneering at people, making hurtful sarcastic comments and Harry would elbow me all the time for it.

 **SOPHIA:** Does it stop? Did you find the cure for brain-to-mouth filter?

 **DRACO:** _(takes a sip from his cup)_ Elbow jabbing helps but it hurts in the end.

 **SOPHIA:** Look at us! Sophia and Draco. _Bonding_! This is brilliant!

 **DRACO:** _(smiling despite himself)_ I wasn’t even meant to stay this long. I didn’t think I’d even be here 5 minutes.

 **SOPHIA:** Why?

 **DRACO:** I didn’t think you’d listen to me. Even after what you’ve heard, even after I’ve apologized for my family’s and my mistakes, I didn’t think you’d listen to me apologizing.

 **SOPHIA:** _(grinning)_ I’m glad you did.

 **DRACO:** Well Harry _(pauses, looks embarrassed)_ Nevermind. I should... Be… I’ll see—

 **SOPHIA:** What about Harry?

 **DRACO:** _(shaking head)_ It’s nothing.

 **SOPHIA:** Hey! Listen Draco, I like listening to your stories about Harry. To be honest, it makes me understand you as a person more. It makes you more… human and less… Malfoy? _(They both laugh)_ I don’t know if that makes much sense _(DRACO mumbles, ‘It does’)._ I love hearing you talk about him, it makes his memory live on despite everything….

 **DRACO:** Alright. Well, he used to say that making friends is easy. The hard part is saying ‘Hello’ everything else is easy as one, two, three. That’s why I came here today.

 **SOPHIA:** And it worked.

 **DRACO:** It could have gone the other way round.

 **SOPHIA:** Don’t spoil the moment, Draco.

 **DRACO:** He had the brightest emerald eyes, they always glittered behind his round, goofy glasses. When he walked through a room, everyone’s head turned. Everyone wanted to talk to him, to say ‘Hello’ because he was electric, magnetic, charming… warm. And out of everyone in the room, he chose the rude, insufferable git that is me to fall in love with.

 **SOPHIA:** _(joking)_ Oh the horror!

 **DRACO:** Read me like tea leaves, he could. Even if we didn’t really know each other, he somehow just knew me. He knew when I was scared, when I was happy, angry, vulnerable _(bites on bottom lip)_ turned on. But to the world I was just angry.

 **SOPHIA:** _(rests her head between her hands)_ What do you remember most about him?

 **DRACO:** I remember how he stops breathing whenever we kiss, the feel of his lips on the back of my earlobe that _(eyes flutter shut)_ would calm me down immediately, falling asleep to his body pressed against mine, but most important _(opens eyes, blinks his glassy eyes rapidly)_ is when I stopped feeling alone. Everything was suddenly color – I could see orange, red, pink, purple, blue, magenta, tale, green, oh, how I could see green. I didn’t have a favourite color, I could never have a favourite. How do you have a favourite when all you saw before was black and white?

 **SOPHIA:** But if you were to guess, what would it be?

 **DRACO:** Green.

 **SOPHIA:** I’d say yellow.

 **DRACO:** Why?

 **SOPHIA:** Because he made everything bright for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little bit of a filler chapter... wanted to put draco in a context as in the following chapter he won't be "nice" i suppose ??? i hope in the following chapters you'll see it.
> 
> KUDOS & COMMENTS are much appreciated (= & hope you enjoyed. & stay tuned (=


	65. 0.64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry confesses to his boyfriend more secrets from the past..

** **

**he wants to rest his eyes for as long as possible as the hours in a night are _not_ enough.**

 

          sophia lays her chin onto her palm, sighing loudly. parent/teacher meetings have never been her cup of tea, even in her new posh school in london. her mind drifts elsewhere as mrs maths assesses her classwork, participation, and her general character.

draco malfoy has been on her mind lately. after the stunning confession at the starbucks where louis works, and listening to _all_ the gossip about what exactly the malfoys do and rumors of where they were since their banishment from the country two years ago and tales about the horrid things they did to anyone, and everyone, who crossed their paths, she still does not know whether she is making the right decision in _staying_ friends with draco malfoy.

for one, taylor and niall, the king and queen of the school, were all to quickly to place a ban on her – weird enough they placed no ban on draco malfoy, just her. and the girl with a huge zit on her chin.

secondly, any chance she thought she had with liam has gone out the window now. all that stalking during his football practices, attending the two football games so far in the semester feel as if they have gone out the window. and now liam is dating somebody zolo, the south african girl sophia glares any chance she gets. not only had it been liam, but friends in general. she had none of that anymore. it is as if by being friends with draco malfoy, she committed social suicide. not a good thing for the super rich kids because it reflects badly on her family… and all that jazz she could care less about.

she sighs again, not listening to a word that mrs maths is saying to her.

it is times like these that she wishes her family were old money like the payne family, or powerful like the waldorfs, or influential like the styles’. or bold, unapologetic like the horans. but no, she was the a smith, still climbing the social ladder in london and it does not help matters that she is associating herself with the malfoy family.

thirdly, draco malfoy has returned to his stoic, monster self. when people do accuse him by reminding him of the horrors the malfoy family committed during freshman and sophomore year, he would always smile with pride and contempt, wearing the insults like a badge of honor. however, when it is just the two of them, she sees another side of him – a non-conceited way, which to be honest has been a surprise to her if not for the taunting remarks he makes towards taylor all. the. time!

she sighs a third time. this time she is elbowed her other only friend, fu yuanhi. fu has come to london thanks to her father, mr yuanhi, in clinching a business deal that will make him the wealthiest man in china, and will therefore be leaving in december, the end of this semester. sophia startles, blinking away from her brooding.

“what?”

“do you not listen to anything i say?” groans mrs maths, exhausted. “even in class you never listen! do you know how many students i have had to see, talk to their parents about their abysmal grades of bs? and here you are, new to my class and your record of english has been average at best…” she momentarily looks up from her papers, “where are your parents?”

“couldn’t be bothered to come,” explains sophia, and this is true. sophia only started school this semester and mr and mrs smith saw no reason to attend the parent/teacher meeting.

mrs maths exhales, frustratingly, and dismisses the both of them. they walk out as nick grimshaw and his aunt walk through. they walk past a line of students with their parents. sophia momentarily wonders, gazing over the symbols of opulent wealth on their persons, whether the parents are here for their child’s welfare or to outsize the other parents of their power, influence and wealth in the society.

“who next?”

“i’d like to meet our japanese teacher, you know, introduce ourselves,” suggests sophia and fu nods. they make their way to the languages block, a good four-hour walk if sophia is being honest. she should not have worn heels today. it is not like she is impressing liam anymore…

 

harry styles groans into his chair while his mother, anne, openly flirts with lucius malfoy, draco malfoy’s stern, towering father, waiting for their history teacher to talk to them next after whoever is inside. he looks away from the two of them flirting – mainly his mother fondly touching mr malfoy’s arm – and ignores the looks on his fellow students faces. sure, he knows his mother is a milf, people constantly reminding him that, even sodding liam, and one time louis did mention it, niall constantly reminding harry to _invite_ his mother to events or zayn who does not hide his exctiment at spotting anne from across the room, muttering to harry, _did your mother get hotter?... i swear she has!_

how he feels about it? he stopped caring long ago. probably, lots of botox and two breast implants ago.

his thoughts are stopped when his mother’s strong perfume attacks his nostrils as she takes the seat beside him.

“who are we seeing next?” she asks.

“mrs biology.”

“what does she teach?”

“history.”

“obviously you’re moving up to higher level history,” she says, adding lipstick to her lips. “i still don’t know why you chose this ghastly subject. much better in economics.”

harry does not respond, opting instead to take out his phone and text his boyfriend. he stares hard at their last threads:

 **LOUIS:** Honestly, how have we NEVER watched OITNB?

 **HARRY:** Because you love odd cartoons!!

 **LOUIS:** ADVENTURE TIME IS NOT ODD. AND SHUT UP, YOU LOVE IT!!

 **HARRY:** I do, angel [===

 **LOUIS:** EMOJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII *****

 **HARRY:** Alrighty. We’ll watch OITNB when we finally finish Season 6 of Adventure Time.

 **LOUIS:** Agreed!

 **HARRY:** Good luck for today. Worried what Mrs Maths will say.

 **LOUIS:** Im worried for BIOLOGY *starts crying*

 **HARRY:** See you on the other side of Hell?

 **LOUIS:** Sadly with flowery shirts from YSL

 **HARRY:** You love them *grinning*

 **LOUIS:** See you butterfly. I love you

 **HARRY:** Laters angel *cheek kisses*

he is left staring at his last text that was not sent to louis. he did not bother pressing the resend button, either. mrs anne leans in, looking at what her son is staring at with a far-away look on his face. she sees “yellow” as the recipient and no doubt it is louis based on the love hearts and football emojis.

“your father saw your article in teen vogue,” she says interrupting harry’s long stare at his phone.

“great.”

“waste of your talent, family name, and time, he said,” she continues on, her son’s eyes glued to his phone screen. “much better if you were with taylor.”

“i’m not.”

“hello mrs styles,” someone’s male parent greets happily. she looks up, her grin and charm instantly on. harry rolls his eyes, sighing back to his phone as anne flirts with whoever this is.  he blocks out her cackling, exposing her plunging neckline, and her thighs too. before long, she is back by harry, her sour and blank/bored mood back, a character of the styles’ family.

“your father read your article,” she reminds him, her voice icy cold. “a complete embarrassment to the family.”

“he should be worried about niall seeing as he is family,” his voice does not hide is disdain for niall. “he is, after all, going to take over father when he passes on. not me or gemma, but him.”

“niall’s a respectable member of society, moreso the horan family,” she reminds him curtly. her shoulders straighten and so does her back automatically. “but i had a talk with him.” harry’s ears pick. he pockets his phone but does not turn to face his mother. he stares at the closed door to mrs biology’s class. “last night when he got round to reading the magazine.”

“what did he say?” he asks curiously despite himself. he misses his father, sue him!

anne averts her gaze, her look fixed on the white wall before her. her shoulders tense, her fingers curl on her lap and her lips purse. a flashback of a conversation she had with her husband flashes through her mind.

 

_“have you read this unsavoury magazine featuring my son?” barked dr styles through the webcam._

_anne appeared calm, thanking the heavens that she had had her botox appointment last week therefore actions of surprise and wincing could not appear on her cheshire face. “yes, dearest. i did.”_

_“it’s rubbish! rubbish! all of it! i don’t know why you let this son of your off the leash,” he continued in his brash, angry voice. “first, it was that ghastly daughter of yours, now your son? why?”_

_anne let it pass that her husband referred to their children as hers, and hers alone, and instead focused on the photo of harry wearing a beautiful suit on the teen magazine. “he looks lovely,” she said, timidly._

_“lovely?” dr styles sputtered in disbelief._

_she winced at his loudness over the speakers but immediately hid it under her blank mask. “yes, dearest.”_

_“he is embarrassing this family! and all because you brought ideas into his head about love—”_

_“children need love to grow, dearest, without it they will become—”_

_“enough!” dr styles slammed his hand on the table, and even if he was on the other side of the ocean, it felt as if he were here with her. “i don’t need to listen to this nonsense. your mother-in-law keeps saying that and it’s driving me crazy. love means nothing, i hope you know that. i hope you understand that!”_

_“dearest,” she said, her voice steady with her cheshire accent, “harry going off to a magazine to model and gemma stuck in a correctional facility for seven years is… these things happen when they happen.”_

_“what are you on about?” he questioned, a large frown on his face, his lips curled in a horrible scowl._

_she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “children don’t do what you want them to do all the time… when you want them to do it, but you love them anyway.”_

_“your lacklustre parenting has caused your children to go off the grid and now it’s too late for them.”_

_“what do you mean, dearest?”_

_“i am cutting them both off, forever. i doubt they will ever turn around and realise the humiliation, disgrace and dishonour they have brought to the styles name.” he loudly sighed, leaning back in his executive black chair and slightly swinging on it. “i wish niall was my son. that kid, no, that man is proper. he thinks critically, analytically and he knows what business means. he does nothing shameful like talking about his faggot boyfriend tom—”_

_he could say the name. he could utter the words, as if the name itself were a curse to his mouth. anne bowed her head slightly, her eyes hidden from her husband. from the way her husband was speaking, with anger laced with disregard seething in his words, he was at the edge of the cliff, about to let harry fall._

_she felt tears at the back of her head but with her head bowed slightly away from the camera, she knew she was safe from her husband’s wrath. harry had spent most of his life surrounded by opulent wealth, too many joy rides in dr styles’ sleek guzzlers, the maids in the house were around far more around than either her or her husband ever were, nights spent with designer drugs, wine bottles and champagne, the glamorous life, was what it was._

_her son was purely a super rich kid with nothing but loose ends._

_she always thought that money would fix him. fix everything, really. fix the loose ends, get himself friends, and buy love. a million pounds extra, two million, soon her and her husband added more zeros to the pounds in harry’s bank account and trust fund but even if they added a hundred more, it never did much. it did not change anything._

_“what do you recommend?” she asked, raising her head to the computer screen._

_with her hand holding a cocktail glass and the other on the latest iphone and underneath a black credit card, she lost her son to the world. and now, without even asking, she was going to let her son go – from her bones and memories. she had to forget him if she was to survive in this world._

_“we’re cutting them both of,” he said with a sense of finality in his voice. even if the idea had just come to him, it made sense and there was no need to think on it._

_“why not until graduation, dearest?” she asked kindly._

_“why? are you on his side? do you want me to cut you off as well?”_

_“no,” she shook her head. “i just think it is better when he graduates next year. much more convenient.” she was buying her son time, time to mature, time to wrap his head around that after he finishes high school he will have no family to speak of. “he did unravel the misuse of money in the company with the deal between daddy taylor and your mother, lily.”_

_“alright. as soon as harry,” – it the first time she heard him utter his name, –  “graduates, he is no longer ours.”_

_she blinked rapidly, not wanting to show weakness in front of dr styles. in another world, she would have chosen her son over her mental husband but harry has nothing. harry was poor, in every sense of the word, especially financially and he was going to lose. she cannot side with the losing side, she said with determination. she was doing this for her son’s protection._

_“yes dearest, i will have no son.”_  


“if you thought he was hostile to you before, think again,” she snapped but keeping her voice hushed. “however, before he could outright disown you—”

“hasn’t he done enough?”

“he was about to stop your trust fund, stop funding for you, stop paying for your sister’s medical treatments… he was going to cut you off completely,” she says, her tone neutral. “not just financially.”

“he read the article?”

“he didn’t have too. the words of that tomlinson boy pour over the 6-page spread he knew what would be in the article without reading it. honestly, everything went to hell when you made tomlinson your escort at the debutant ball.”

“it was a business deal with taylor,” he harshly reminds his mother. “nothing else there.”

“the first lesson of being a parent,” she says, her voice not as comforting as harry would wish, “is that children,” she sneers sending harry a sideways glance, “don’t do what they’re meant to do or else life would be perfect. but they go through a stupid rebel phase by printing their lives in the media, dating peasants, getting arrested, getting into low-class ivy leagues but you tolerate them anyway. you keep them around because one day you will need their cunning power.”

harry bows his head. “i’m your son….”

“but i’ve stopped, harry.”

“stopped?” he asks, turning to momentarily face her. “what do you mean ‘you’ve stopped’?”

“i’ve stopped defending you in front of your father. it is suddenly clear to me that you don’t care, that you don’t care of upholding the styles’ name, you date below, way below, your class, you get bs in chemistry for crying out loud, you did not get into yale on your own merit i had to help you, you’re a bloody sad, suicidal son! and your sister?” she stops to inhale, shaking her head. “the lot of you! you’re all an embarrassment no wonder your father opted to appoint niall to the board, and permanently remove you and your outcast sister.” she groans in frustration. “so whatever happens from now on, whatever reason the malfoys have returned, if it has anything to do with you, you’re on your own.”

“bu—but they’re dangerous.”

“yes, well, i underestimated your father’s mother when she said that you should’ve been taylor’s escort. i underestimated the fear in her voice concerning the malfoys and how it was stupid of me to even listen to your alcoholic friend mckenzie and holier-than-thou liam when they said you should take tomlinson to the ball. honestly, if it wasn’t disgusting that you took a peasant tomlinson to the ball, it had to be a boy?” she snarls. “a _male_ , harry? don’t remember your father and i raising a faggot,” she says under her breath but harry hears it loud and clear.

harry’s eyes remain shut through her horrible speech, he leaves them closed when she hears her huff in annoyance and closed once more when the clacking of her feels fade away. he jerks his head up, eyes wide open at the sudden touch on his shoulder. he calms down when he sees liam smiling down at him, unsure.

“hey pal,” he greets him, taking the seat near him. harry politely nods. “tough day?”

“tough life,” he spits. “try being a styles for a day. honestly, i never know why niall ever wants to be a styles.”

“well, it doesn’t help that dr styles and niall have the same personality.”

“i’d give anything to be in ireland with his father,” he says at the same time wondering at the same time why mrs biology was taking her sweet time inside the class

liam opts for changing the subject. “have you heard?” harry raises an eyebrow in question. “taylor put a ban on sophia, while niall lifted the one on gigi.” harry attempts a smile while eye rolling. “and guess who is the captain of the cheerleading squad?”

“hasn’t it always been taylor?”

“it’s trisha,” he says, gasping. “trisha cappelletti of all people.”

“well, she wants to be queen,” he shrugs. finally, the door opens and out walks cathy, the girl he was on the cover with for teen vogue, the september issue.

“do you want to do this together?” asks liam, holding harry’s shoulder.

“please,” he heaves in reply, happy to not have to go through teachers gnawing at every turn, telling him to do better than his a-plus’, better than his 4/6 ivy league acceptances, better than his top-notch assignments, better than his father’s expectations… as if that will ever happen.

“alright,” liam smiles, cheerfully, as they walk through mrs biology’s class.

the ptm ends quickly and it is only when harry reaches home, slamming his head against the pillow and screaming into it, that reality sinks in: he is cut off. completely.

he brings the pillow to cover his ears even as he is screaming, screaming into the silk pillow for who knows how long because he does not feel the hand laying gently on his back. he sits up, twisting his head to find his best friend looking wearily down at him. he slams his head back onto his white pillow, muttering incoherently into his pillow.

“use your words genius,” mckenzie cackles. “much easier that way.”

“i’m cut off.”

mckenzie’s eyes are wide and in shock. “wh-what?” harry remains silent. “you can’t be cut off! impossible! you know anne just says that to threaten you. your father would never actually cut you off—”

“well, he did. apparently, he has read the teen vogue article.”

“isn’t this what you wanted?” she asks quietly, gaging harry’s facial expression. his infamous bored mask covers his face. “you’ve said that this year is the year you’re finally going to get your father’s attention and make him come back home. here with all of you.”

harry snorts. “yeah, that’s working out great.” mckenzie sighs, kneading the bridge of her nose. “so now i basically have to face the world alone. i have no money, soon no friends, anne hates me, my father wants nothing to do with me, my boyfrie-louis… oh, _louis_.”

“what about louis?” she asks, slightly alarmed.

“i still haven’t told him those three words.” mckenzie sighs once again. “and it’s been literally weeks. his last text said ‘i love you’ and i’ve been wracking my brain wondering how to reply.”

“how about ‘i love you’?”

harry bitterly laughs. “yeah sure. text him the words he has been dying to hear.”

“you know what, one thing at a time, alright?” says mckenzie, kneading the bridge of her nose. “dr styles has cut you off, what does that mean exactly?”

“it means all those peasant, poor, basic brits jokes are real. the moment i graduate high school i have nothing to call mine. all my ivy league acceptances mean nothing if i can’t even _get_ there. all of this,” he twirls his finger around indicating at his spacious, white bedroom, “is gone.” he blinks his eyes several times. “i have nothing, k.” 

“can’t you explain to yale or harvard all of this?”

“never. i’ve never been a beggar, k, and you know that. i don’t know what i’ll do but scholarships sound like the only plausible explanation.”

“remember when me, you and trisha were drunk at your house party—”

“—no more house parties either—”

“—and we said this term we would not be apologetic? unapologetic is our motto, or did you forget?” she continues, ignoring harry’s self-pity and negativity. “right now, you need to focus on louis, not your future. louis is your priority and if you do nothing about it then you’re going to lose him, and somehow i feel like being cut off by dr styles is the same feeling as losing louis.”

“worse,” he says under his breath. he clears his throat, sitting up on his bed.

“uh oh, i feel someone is about to vent,” says mckenzie watching harry closely: the lowered eyes, his lips tugging down, his face mask of boredom evaporating. “this calls for the wine cellar.”

she grabs harry’s wrist and race down the stairs to the styles’ wine cellar. it is in the basement, and rows, and rows, and more rows, of wine, countless of them taking every inch of the second basement. many of them are imported, more are foreign, some are exclusive, and no matter how many times harry and his best friend indulge in the wine cellar without anne and dr styles’ knowledge, the wine does not seem to end.

two and a half bottles later, harry is leaning against the walk-in fridge, two rows of wine of either side of him, mckenzie leaning against one. he takes a chug of his wine. “i can’t seem to get anything right anymore. i thought if.” he sways his head against the metal door of the walk-in fridge. “i went to the tabloids, become a ysl model, did not spend as much money on cars as last year then he’d come back home. if i got into all of the ivy leagues that he would come back, if i got all a’s he would,” he hiccups, “no wonder he is not back because all i’ve done nothing to make him proud of me.”

“you helped uncover what your grandmother was doing with daddy taylor, you exposed the lies that she and daddy taylor were doing and even if your father didn’t show approval, anne was proud.”

“proud?” he chokes on his snort. “all my mother feels towards me is repulsion. she barely even touches me anymore,” he chugs the bottle of wine up, gulping down its contents, “and my father wishes niall were his son and not me.” perhaps it is the wine talking, or his unconscious, but he blurts out, “i slept with him.”

a beat.

“what?!”

harry ignores her surprise, and shock. “it wasn’t sex. just a bloody blowjob. good one, too. missed it.”

“what the fook harry!” she swats his head with the back of her hand. “you know niall will use that information to torment you and louis.”

“please,” he scoffs, “it would hurt him more if it got out. louis will, probably in a thousand years, forgive me, but niall knows he’ll never recover from this.”

mckenzie curses under breath. “so you slept with niall, now what? is zayn next? maybe try liam again?”

he ignores her sarcasm. “he’s been texting me.”

“why has niall been texting you?” she asks, her eyes narrowed on harry as he takes a swing of his wine.

“he’s in trouble this time. he wants me to help him out.”

“why not taylor?”

“taylor can’t. nor can liam, or… he wouldn’t ask zayn, too much pride.”

“help with what?”

“his mother wants to send him back to ireland. back home, for good, with his father.” mckenzie remains quiet. “and for some reason he thinks i can help.”

“a part of me wants to slap you senseless and another, which i’m starting to not like, wants to cover this up so louis doesn’t find out.” harry gives him a small smile. “are you sure niall won’t blab? who else was there?”

“we were locked in chuck bass’ room so no one saw us,” says harry trying to remember anyone, or anything, through his drunken mind. “it felt… good.”

harry startles at mckenzie’s wine bottle crashing on the row of wine to harry’s right. she abrupt stands, not stumbling as she does so and he briefly wonders if she has been drinking as much as him. she crosses her arms across her chest, her lips in a tight line.

“stand.”

harry knows better than to _not_ stand with that tone of his best friend’s. he stands up, staggering, immediately leaning against the metal door behind him, and blinking away for his vision to focus.

“listen here, styles,” she begins. “i’m not going to sugarcoat shit here. no matter what happened at chuck’s party, don’t think niall will be a fool to keep it quiet. you two fondling each other’s dicks will come out, eventually. you have choices now. one, tell louis immediately.” harry shudders at the thought. “two, tell louis you love him. three, get that bloody hiv test and have sex with your boyfriend for fuck’s sake!”

harry flutters his eyes shut, and swallows audibly.

“but option three is just running away from your problems. louis has never given you any doubt about his love, not once, has he?” he shakes his head, not too fast in case he falls back to the floor. “he never gave you doubt and it’s starting to feel like you’re starting to give him reasons to.”

“well if i wasn’t fractured inside by my insecurities then—”

“oh, you think you’re the only one who has insecurities?” she barks. “flashing news harry, we all do. we have our own insecurities, battling them every day; it’s not just you. even louis does and you know what one of his biggest insecurity is right now? that you don’t love him and the longer you keep quiet the more you feed _that_ insecurity.”

harry gapes at mckenzie, all the air out of him gone from his lungs. his hand clutches the fridge to prevent himself from tumbling to the ground. he should not have opened that third bottle of wine…

mckenzie recovers from her surprise at her words, too. “remember why louis loves you, need to remember that.”

 

=     =     =     = ****  
  


for the past three days, mckenzie’s advice has been on his mind, her last words that louis loves him  and all he needs to do is remember why. waiting outside niall’s large gate in his cadillac, he is starting to wonder if this is really a good idea. the gates clink open, and he drives down the long, winding driveway where the horans green and orange mansion comes into view. he shuts the door to his cadillac, walks up to the large door, and rings the bell.

two minutes later, niall steps into the living room where the butler had asked harry to wait for him.

“what are you doing here?” niall’s voice echoes through the expansive living room. harry turns around to spot niall donned in shorts and a pale pink shirt.

“where were you?”

“jogging.”

“i came to help you,” he says. niall gawks at him then composes himself.

“why now? i’ve been texting, and calling, and trying to reach you for a week now and now is when you’re helping?” he says, his voice rising. “well too late, harry! i’m leaving tonight for ireland. i’ve already said goodbye to everyone.”

“but… but you can’t leave.”

“i have too. didn’t you read the news? i was the one who lit the supermarket on fire.”

“why?” he asks niall, his eyebrows hitting the roof. “why the hell would you light fires to buildings?”

“i was angry okay!” he barks loudly. “i was angry. and alone. and i don’t want to go to ireland. you, you of all the people know how horrible ireland is for me. everything i’ve worked for, everything i’ve built for my family is going to dust the moment i leave because of those power hungry assholes in our school, including you.”

“stay and fight! that’s who you are. you fight people who get in your way.”

“not my fooking mother!” he roars at harry.

harry groans internally as he takes tentative steps to niall. he stops three steps away from him, taking in niall’s red eyes, his scowl, his white knuckles and general angry fear vibe radiating off him.

“i don’t know why you’ve been burning buildings, or why your mother is sending you to ireland and i know if you go my father will find someone else to replace you on the board and that will somehow be the last straw for you—”

“i’m not a suicidal emo wanker like you.”

harry ignores his sharp tone. “but you’re fooking niall james horan. the arrogant prick you only watches out for himself, and no one else. occasionally taylor, but mainly himself. you stay here, stay another day longer, fight for your stay to remain, that’s what we all do anyhow.”

“i messed up this time.”

“and i’m a mess yet i’m not hated for it. somebody saw me slipping into the darkness, saved me from slipping off the rooftop, believed in me despite showing him why he shouldn’t. why he shouldn’t… care.” a moment passes between them, niall’s hands fall limp by his sides. harry raises his gaze from niall’s neon shoes to his face. “i promise you aren’t alone. you’re never alone!”

“you ignored my pleas for help.”

“rightfully so,” he hisses and niall winces. harry takes a deep breath in. “but i’m here now, ready to help. what can i do?”

“my mother’s coming home in two hours, you can try your luck,” niall mutters, except his tone his hopeful. “see if she listens to _you_.”

“she will,” harry grins. “apparently, i’m a good boy to all parents.”

“apart from your own.”

“where did she go?” he asks niall, ignoring the hurt growing in his heart from the comment.

“who fooking cares.” harry shifts on his feet, opening his mouth, then shutting it, like a fish out of water. niall growls, low and deep. “if this works,” he says slowly as if he is in pain uttering the words, “then whatever happened between us at chuck bass’ party will forever be forgotten.”

“i’m not doing this because of that niall,” harry says indignantly, “i’m doing this because you’re my friend.”

“ex-best friend.”

“ _current_ friend.”

“i’m guessing you sorted everything with louis?” harry sways his glance to the large rainbow painting above the fireplace. “you haven’t talked to him? you haven’t told him ‘i love you’? you’re going to lose him,” he adds after harry remains silent.

harry’s eyes meet niall. for a moment they are full of dread then blank. “he loves me, that much i know, and i’m working my way through telling him so.”

“is this why you’re here?”

harry shurgs. he slumps himself on the large couch before the fireplace. “why is it so quiet?”

“everyone’s leaving tonight,” answers niall, tone dry. “i can’t believe i won’t be here when malfoy takes everyone down in school, one by one.”

“silver linings, eh?”

“shut up,” smiles niall. “how come you aren’t scared of malfoy? i mean, did you forget what happened in freshmen year? sophomore year? until we all sent him away?”

“i’m trying not to think about that,” says harry slumping further into the couch. “somehow malfoy has been… laying low which should be a warning sign but at the same time, a relief. no, i haven’t forgotten what he did before his banishment, nor do i know who lifted the ban but for now, we’re safe.”

“make yourself comfortable, i’m going to shower.”

“i meant it when i said i miss you as a friend,” harry says, holding niall’s wrist. “even if i was drunk, i still meant it.”

“we’ll see after you meet my mother.”

despite niall’s nervousness, harry’s charm, cheekiness and wit persuaded niall’s mother to let her son stay in london. why did she want niall to go back to ireland? well, there were many reasons but two stood out: malfoy had supplied secret information that showed niall had involvement in the july terrorism explosion years back and two, a sour deal niall made with daddy taylor during freshman year to sabotage the payne’s mining business that immediately went sour leaving the waldorf and horan families on the verge of economic failure and shame. and not forgetting the one where he spent _millions_ of pounds on a horse.

not forgetting the recent burning on a building in central london, which he gladly told niall’s mother which had been the final straw. as harry worked his charm, he got an odd feeling. the feeling that niall’s mother genuinely liked him. it is not just niall’s mother, but all of his friend’s parents, they all _love_ harry. they love his personality, his jokes despite them being dry, his character, his chivalry, his intellect, his… well, everything. yet his own parents barely look at him.

he pushes these thoughts back as he enters the cafeteria on a fine tuesday lunch time. he makes his way into the cafeteria, his footsteps carrying him automatically towards him, the blond boy that people fear and hate in equal measure. he ignores the looks he is getting as he passes the table where mckenzie, louis, liam, and trisha are seating, the table where taylor, niall and taylor’s minions are seating, the table where  zayn is sitting with shaunda, and stops where gigi is sitting alone.

gigi slowly looks up from her food to harry. “what?” she asks curtly.

“the ban is lifted,” he says. the table near them gasps, tens of heads turning around at hearing the ending of gigi’s ban.

“wh-why?” she asks, surprise evident on her tongue.

“i’m sorry,” he says. gigi blinks in surprise. “yes, i am sorry.” he walks off, gigi’s mouth hanging low, as he heads for the one table he does not want to sit at.

“this seat taken, malfoy?”

draco malfoy, sophia and fu all turn and look at harry standing at the edge of the table. malfoy gives him a blank stare, sophia’s eyebrows are at her hairline, and fu looks uneasy. harry shifts on his feet. the tables near malfoy’s table are all looking over their shoulders, while those in the background, where the line of the cafeteria is getting longer, are curiously looking towards the end of the cafeteria, wondering what harry is doing _with_ draco malfoy.

“what the fook is he doing?” gawks liam, looking at harry standing before malfoy’s table. “why is he there?”

“that’s basically social suicide!” trisha hisses.

“he knows what he is doing,” louis voice cuts through their concern. the table turns to him, ogling. “he’s righting some wrongs, wronging some rights, i don’t know.”

“this is social suicide!” trisha hisses, again.

“he’s clearly insane!” mckenzie cries.

everyone in the cafeteria is thinking along the same lines as mckenzie. the entire cafeteria, as the seconds pass by without malfoy answering harry, is now paying full attention to them, like the start of a new season of your favourite series. anticipation.

“harry’s lost it!” growls taylor. “he’s making a huge mistake in talking to malfoy. does he want a ban, too?”

“nobody follows the ban on harry,” niall drawls. his eyes are twinkling with curiously despite his voice coming off as flat. “you put that ban and it’s going to look bad on you.”

“what the hell does he want with malfoy anyway?” taylor mutters. “it’s not like they have anything in common. did he forget what malfoy did to all of us during our high school years? did he get amnesia and forget what malfoy did to his mother?”

“appears so,” chips in one of taylor’s minions.

back to malfoy’s table, harry is still waiting for an answer.

“why?” draco asks, finally.

“no harm in having lunch together?” harry mutters nervously. “us… four,” he adds ‘four’ after noticing that fu is on the same table.

“we’re full.”

sophia casts a nervous glance to malfoy. “that’s harry you’re talking too, you git!”

“i know who he is,” malfoy drawls. his piercing eyes catch harry’s. “and he knows who i am.”

harry gulps. “so lunch?”

“why not sit next to your boyfriend?” malfoy draco. from across the room, louis’ spine shivers when his eyes land on malfoy’s looking back at his. “why’s he not here?”

“because i am here, not him.” malfoy sits up, levelling him with a look. “look, styles, just because your father cut you off,” – sophia and fu gasp, this being new information, and harry winces – “does not mean we’re going to be friends. whatever reason you have to be my friend, leave it. stop it. kill those thoughts because you and i will never be friends.”

“you don’t know that.” harry tries to squelch the dread rising in his throat. “you don’t know if you don’t try.”

malfoy stands up, sophia and fu’s throats closing up. the cafeteria is pin-drop silent, watching closely as draco malfoy stands before harry, a little taller than him.

“you and i are nothing alike,” malfoy says, his voice ice cold. “you’re nothing to me, all of you, but mainly you. i remember in second year when i met your mother.” harry shuts his eyes, his body visibly shaking. “i remember her long stay in the hospital because of what i did. i remember you trying to save her. trying to take me down, trying to find a loophole, but failing as your mother’ s health also failed. did you forget all that?”

“no.”

“keep that in mind then.” to sophia and fu, he says, “we’re leaving. too much trash around.”

harry’s stumbles back as malfoy shoves his shoulder with his own. he lets out the breath he does not know he has been holding. immediately, the cafeteria jolts back to chattering as malfoy, sophia and fu in two, walks out of the cafeteria, and harry lumps down on draco’s seat. soon, his smell senses are engulfed with lemon, lemon, lemon. he leans into louis’ side, dropping his head on louis’ shoulder.

“what happened?”

“he reminded me of what he did to my mother.”

“what happened to your mother?”

harry begins the spine-chilling tale of how his mother’s kidney one thursday afternoon  amongst friends in sicily failed and she was rushed to the nearest hospital. the doctors told dr styles, gemma, and harry that anne would require a kidney a.s.a.p as her other one was not up to par. dr styles was not a match, but harry and gemma were.

_“over my dead body,” anne roared in the hospital room after her children agreed they would donate their kidney to her._

_“but mrs styles, your kidney is failing,” the doctor insisted._

_“i’d rather die!” she spat._

“what happened next?” asks louis breathlessly. harry takes a bite off louis’ apple.

harry tried to convince his mother that she should take his kidney but she kept refusing. dr styles, gemma and harry all secretly agreed that harry would go under the knife, take out his kidney, to save his dying mother.

everything that could go wrong, _did_ go wrong. turns out that harry’s kidney was not compatible to his mother’s. the doctor had lied to them. anne’s health deteriorated what with her failing kidney, and harry’s kidney that was fighting with anne’s body, which was promptly removed, but anne’s health was far, far worse. gemma watched as her mother fought  each day for her life while dr styles was trying to contact the best of the best doctors.

the current doctor that lied to them had gone missing. he was nowhere to be found. new doctors from across europe came in, checking anne’s vital signs, all telling them the same thing: anne had to find a kidney match or else she would die.

“what happened to your kidney?” asks louis, his eyes as wide as plates staring at his boyfriend.

“it was… not useful anymore, ”harry says, vaguely. “so now i have one kidney.”

days in the hospital turned to a weeks. and more weeks. and anne’s health was so, so bad, she was put in the intensive care unit. her body was weakening under her old kidney, and also putting her body through two kidney transplants – harry’s and then gemma’s – and the removal of both of them.  she did not have much time. during the whole ordeal the styles’ family were in the hospital, harry’s friends, namely taylor, mckenzie, niall, zayn, and liam, were trying their best to help him.

liam was the first to step in, offering his kidney, just in case it was even a match. harry was moved to tears, not knowing what to say. he tried to convince liam out of it, no doubt so did taylor, but he was adamant knowing how much anne meant to harry even if it was not the other way round.

it was no match. he kindly asked his other friends if they could see it their kidney was a match. one by one, they backed out, including mckenzie and niall. soon, he was practically knocking on people’s doors asking for a spare kidney but each time he was met with  a shutting door. he event set up galas, charitiy events but all yielded nothing. later, his friend’s stopped visiting him, they stayed clear like a plague, even his bloody girlfriend broke up with him, daddy taylor stating that it was not a good time to associate with the styles’ family.

watching over his mother’s pale skin, sunken lips, frail body, it felt like he was meeting death for the first time. he prayed to  a god he did not believe in. he begged his father to find anyone, anyone at all with a kidney match. his father, however, was starting to accept the inevitable, including gemma, but not harry. he could not lose his mother.

louis’ palm cups on harry cheek, wiping the single tear that dropped down his gorgeous cheek. “did you eventually find a kidney for your mom?” asks louis worriedly.

“no,” harry shakes his head.

“wh-what do you mean?”

turns out that anne’s kidney was really fine. it was not even her kidney that was the issue, it was her appendicitis. the malfoy family were the reason anne was in the hospital, and stayed in the hospital. the doctor that disappeared was a fraud, a fake, who was not even a health professional, and was hired out by the malfoy family to overlook anne’s stay, including the other doctors that the styles had hired to take care of anne. the papers that showed harry’s and gemma’s kidneys were a match were doctored meaning that anne’s children could not donate a kidney to their parents even if they wanted to. it was all for nothing. the doctor who disappeared had supplied black market drugs that would deteriorate anne’s health, and with small doses, lead to her eventual death.

“what?” louis cries in outrage. “you can’t do that! that’s murder!”

harry lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “there was a way out.”

“what was it?” he asks.

harry was an important member of the exclusive, posh toarechosen club. so exclusive and secretive no one can easily in. except, of course, harry. harry got in through marrit, his ageing german lover. to be a member would take decades, say if you are applying at 20-years old, your acceptance would come when you’re 60-years old, if at all you do get in. the toarechosen club is so elite that you cannot _just_  apply, you need someone on the inside to recommend you which is how harry got into the club.

by harry being a member of the club, it brought great joy to his dr styles. it is by far the only time harry remembers his father was proud of his son. the styles were a name to be reckoned with now that they were in the high-class toarechosen club. this was all to end, however, when malfoy said in order to save anne he had to give up the club. while this was a no brainer, harry was torn. yes, he was torn. on one hand, this club meant everything to him, his family, his family’s name… moreso it was a gift from marrit, a woman he was fond of, and is.

together, marrit and harry would attend the toarechosen club together, dancing, drinking, making merry, indulging in current world affairs that would in fact change global politics, that is how powerful the club is. but for harry, the club was important because of marrit. the club is the absolute one thing that reminds him of marrit, even after her passing, he remembers her memory through the club.

“i’m sorry you lost that,” louis says, caressing harry’s shoulder.

harry says nothing, clenching his jaw and breathing deeply through his nose. his body shakes, his lip quivers… and louis holds him. holds him tightly, beneath the shakes and the shallow breathing, he does not let go of harry.

“i… had to let it go,” he mutters, his sobs caught in his throat. “i had to let it go without telling anyone.”

to leave the club has never happened, it is unheard of except harry did. harry explained to marrit, two days before she died, that he was leaving the club. he was leaving her, too. somehow she understood but did not understand why he would leave toarechosen because well, nobody leaves the club. he left despite her protests and in exchange, he gave draco malfoy’s name as his replacement. the following day, rather, that night, anne’s health improved almost instantly, it was a little frightening. doctors in the hospital called it a miracle because anne was heading straight for death’s door just a few hours earlier.

then everything came tumbling down. it seemed that the missing piece to the grandiose that is the malfoy family was the membership of the toarechosen club because they were the most powerful family in england. or the most powerful to those who mattered. the malfoy family relentlessly attacked the styles’ family through politics, business, relationship, wealth… in every form imaginable.

dr styles blamed harry’s carelessness for leaving the club, marrit died a week ago and he was not able to attend her funeral, taylor broke up with him, his sister was angry with him for the misfortune, his mother, now alive and healthy, cried foul to him, even mocking him for giving up his kidney for her, his friends did not speak to him because of the bubble of protection the toarechosen club brought against the malfoy family, but the worst of it all has got to be the agony he felt.

there was not a single day he did not spend a crying in the massive, glass shower, to his silk pillow at night, in the bathrooms in school if he was not being taunted. he cried so much he wondered how much a body could even cry without getting exhausted, or finished.  he cried his entire sophomore year, day after day, getting no relief from it all, even after the malfoy family was banned, he still felt the hostility.

“is that when malfoy was banned from the uk?”

“i don’t know when, or why, he was banned because the styles’ family was not included in the signing of the family banishment because of what i did,” explains harry, “but malfoy’s membership with the club helped his coming to uk and the lift of the ban.”

“did your mom get better?”

“yeah. to this day, nobody knows that it is the malfoys who put my mother through hell,” says without bitterness in his voice, as if he cannot feel the pain anymore. “sometimes i think because i left the club, my father is in canada. the reason for everything in my life going wrong, messy, and fooked up.”

“and now he is back….”

“and now he is back,” he agrees, “but i have to fix what i did. i have to fix the mess i created for my family.”

“harry,” he says, his hand on harry’s thigh, “you cannot blame yourself for what happened to your mother. you can’t blame yourself that the doctor lied about what was wrong with your mother, about sacrificing your kidney for your mom, about leaving the club to save her, you can’t blame yourself. the world blames you but you should not.”

“it’s easier that way,” he mutters, his eyes glassy. “sometimes i think that it is over, that everyone has forgotten, but they haven’t… they’ll never forget i’m the one who simultaneously ruined everyone’s life, moreso my family.”

“i can tell that you’ve made up your mind with whatever you’re about to do, what with you talking to malfoy and all that, but… think about what he’s done. what he’s capable of… what he can do now that he is back and still in toarechosen. he could hurt your family more—”

“fat chance,” harry snorts. “somehow whatever he does, it won’t hurt as bad as it did before. maybe because i’m used to it, or… i don’t know. it won’t be as bad as before.”

brushing harry’s hair away from his cheeks and behind his ear, he is in awe. harry carries so much weight on his shoulders, on his head, pinning his body further down to the ground that he is crawling on his knees because of it. the weight of his past weighs him down every day it is no wonder he sleeps longer than usual. he sleeps later than most people who are awake, he sleeps in class even in fun classes where sleeping is literally impossible, he sleeps when he gets a moment to himself, he sleeps when he has drank a bottle of champagne, or even a glass of wine or two, he fights his sleep when he is with him…

his thoughts drift further into the dark as louis gets the sickening feeling that perhaps harry does not simply want to end everything by jumping off the roof, he is not suicidal, he just wants to shut his eyes… for a long time. he wants to rest his eyes for as long as possible as the hours in a night are _not_ enough. he gets the oddest feeling that harry is jealous of those people who died in the 1700s, the likes of beethoven or montesquieu, because they are lying in their coffins, sleeping away as the world above them walks. an overpowering feeling washes over his body as he compares harry to someone who has been awake for 700 years and when presented with a bed, in the form of a coffin, he will not resist the urge to lay down on the soft pillow and shut his eyes.

his heart leaps in his throat watching harry slowly gaze at him when he concludes that harry would do anything, anything even if it means killing himself, to get a peaceful mind. harry is at peace when his eyes are closed.

he blinks his eyes rapidly but his tears flow freely down his cheeks. harry’s eyes open wide and in shock at his boyfriend’s sudden crying. the sob lodged in his throat bursts, and he cries, not so loud but noticeable that liam, trisha and mckenzie rush to their table in alarm.

“louis,” harry soothes his neck as his boyfriend cries on his shoulder, “louis what’s wrong?”

“what did you do?” trisha cries.

“i… i didn’t do anything,” he mutters tightening his arms around louis. “angel….”

“harry, what’s wrong?”

“i’m so sorry,” louis mutters sobbing onto his ysl shirt, “i’m sorry, so sorry…”

soothing louis’ hair, he looks at his friends in alarm. then back at louis, kissing his hair, muttering soothing words hoping louis will hear them among his sobs.

“what were you talking about?”

“i told him about what malfoy did to  anne,” he says and an open dam of tears shake louis’ body.

“why would you say that?” mckenzie snaps.

“what happened?” asks trisha wearily.

“not now,” mckenzie shouts at her.

“sorry i asked,” trisha mutters in apology.

“let’s go somewhere private,” he says quietly to louis. he manages to get him to stand, the three staring at louis’ red teary face, and making their way out of the cafeteria, ignoring the curious looks. in no time are they in harry’s favourite spot near the football pitch, where they can be alone, serene.

louis has managed to control himself, wiping the tears off his cheek, and then laughing the awkwardness away. harry, the whole time, is quiet beside louis, his hand on his back soothingly.

“i… i don’t know what came over me,” louis mumbles.

“angel, what’s wrong? did i say something?”

“it’s… it’s something i realized after you told me that you’re trying to make everything right by being malfoy’s friend.”

“oh?”

“forget what i said. forget all the horrible things i said. do whatever you need to be on malfoy’s side, i’ll be there supporting you, on your side, even if it goes horribly i’ll be on your side. i love you harry, so much, so please, please do this.”

harry blinks in surprise. “where’s this coming from?”

louis cups harry’s cheeks, feeling tears on the back of his eyes. “i love you so much you have no idea—”

“i li—”

“i don’t say ‘i love you’ just because i want you to answer back. i say it because  i want you to know how i feel, to know every single day that my love for you does not waver, does not fall, only rises each day. i don’t care about your past, the things you did or didn’t do, because i love you all the same.” he swallows back a sob. “if you ever feel the need to sleep please don’t.”

“what?” he asks confused. louis embraces him, surprising harry even more. slowly, harry wraps his hands around louis’ shoulders, his nose buried in louis’ hair and the scent of lemons all around him. “i’m confused, angel.”

“i know you don’t hear this a lot but i need you, harry.” harry’s body stiffens. “i want you, every day. i love you, i love you,” he mumbles. harry relaxes into louis embrace, letting louis’ warmth wash through him. “i need you, my butterfly.”

“me too,” answers harry. they break from their embrace, chuckling away the heavy tension that had descended on them. “who knew hugs could be...”

“uplifting?” louis offers, and harry nods biting his lip.

“um…” harry begins but stops, scratching the back of his head. he wants to ask louis what he means by ‘if you ever feel the need to sleep, please don’t.’ when he said it but he has a feeling he already knows what it means. louis somehow knows his occasional inkling to his suicidal side. he feels a little relieved that louis sort of understands, accepts him, but at the same time little less relieved that he knows; that louis knows about his suicidal tendencies and how much they affect his boyfriend, to the extent he cries in front of a cafeteria.

if he is being honest, he gets a little peace of mind knowing that louis is _understanding_ about the side he does not like to dwell on.

“so…” louis trails, dragging him out of his thoughts.

“thank you,” he says slowly, “for saying, um, if you ever feel the need to, uh, sleep... that i shouldn’t. nobody’s ever told me that.”

“of course,” louis nods. “i mean it too. sorry about your shirt.”

“don’t worry, always carry an extra pair in my locker. plus it’s not that soaked.”

louis surprises his boyfriend by lunging forward and capturing harry’s lips with his own, desperately. louis cups his cheek tightly, his other hand snaking to harry’s neck, fingers mingling in harry’s hair.

it is a kiss that tears harry in all directions as well as piecing him together. it is as if his veins are bursting open with hot lava at the same time freezing like the ice statues. louis slides his chest up against harry, his thigh riding up the side of harry’s own thigh. harry gets the hint and cups his hand behind louis’ delicious thighs and lifts him off the ground, immediately wrapping his ankles behind harry. he lets their tongue graze each other in a heated style. heat sears on harry’s stomach yet his legs feel cold, his brain his foggy yet his soul a dark abyss and by the time louis pulls away from his lips, he sees a glow. a glow of blue eyes piercing through to his dark soul.

“fuck,” he moans breathlessly, gently lowering louis to his feet. he stumbles back, his back plastered to the tree behind him. “th-that was hot!”

louis laughs nervously. “yeah…”

watching harry catch his breath, he tentatively moves closer, gazing at harry before gently resting his chin on harry’s sturdy shoulder, his arms curled around him. harry slowly curves his arms around his boyfriend warmly as he says, “what do you need? to get malfoy on your side?”

“i… i’m trying to see if he can get me back in the club again.”

louis leans back slightly to gaze at his boyfriend’s unsure green eyes. “are you serious? you want to get back in? i thought you said the only way to enter is through a recommendation from someone else because the other way would take decades, and it’s not like malfoy is going to just let you in…” he pauses, watching his boyfriend’s lip in a tight line, not saying anything. “or is there another plan?”

the bell rings albeit faintly because they are quite far away. hand-in-hand they make their way back towards the cafeteria.

“someone once told me,” he says slyly, nudging louis’ shoulder as they walk, “rudeness is the expression of fear, people are angry, frustrated that they won’t get what they want. these people, generally very unattractive but somehow are, only needs to be loved and they will open up like a flower.” louis smiles, briefly laying his head on harry’s shoulder. “i think that that is malfoy.”

“what’s your plan then?”

“i’ll smother him with love.”

“kill him with kindness,” louis chuckles.

“shoot him with smiles.”

“torture him with hugs.”

“eventually he will come to the dark side,” he says, in a mock dark tone.

“where we have unicorns, rainbows and…”

“curly fries,” he yelps, wrapping louis in his arms and lifting him off the ground.

louis laughs into his boyfriend’s neck. “and chocolate fountains!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a long time... me thinks. hope you enojoyed this one... looks like A LOT had happened before larry had gotten together!! hope this chapter shows a glimpse of why malfoy had been banned 
> 
> toodles ♦


	66. 0.65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry learns to photograph his heart.

** **

> **and if you hold the snow in your hands close enough, long enough, it changes. It melts.**

“what are you doing, fu?” questions malfoy. fu is emptying her locker by throwing all her books to the ground. papers flew out from her locker, her tiny black bottles, ink for her calligraphy pen, draco thinks, photos hanging on the door of her locker… until it is empty and on the ground.

“i’m changing my locker.”

“i can see that. why?” he asks eyeing the books by her legs. he leans his shoulder against the locker, and crosses his arms across his chest, his biceps tightening against his fitting, navy blazer.

“well, in case it escaped your hearing, i have a ban on me thanks to taylor. apparently it is because i am talking to you and hanging out with sophia, who also, has a ban on her.”

a fleeting worry is on malfoy’s face but he quickly masks it. “does it bother you?”

“no. like i have had worse.”

“you and me,” he smirks. “so what happens to your books?” he pointedly looks around her feet.

“i’m throwing them.”

“where?”

“in the bin.”

“why?”

“because i’m throwing my books.”

“yuanhi!” he mutters under his breath.

“taylor had someone spray my locker with mortein doom so now everything smells horrid. but do not worry,” fu picks up a couple of books and throws them in the bin behind her, “i had my mother buy me the books and they will be arriving this evening.”

“hey guys!” someone cheers before sophia engulfs draco with a  hug from behind. “what’s up?” she asks while hugging fu. she looks down at the books by her friend’s red wedges. “finally! took you long enough.”

“you knew?” wonders draco, getting himself off the lockers.

“yeah,” sophia grins, “what do you have now?”

“higher level english.”

“oh, i have higher level biology. you?” she asks draco.

“same.”

“we’ll see for higher level economics,” she smiles. her and draco drag themselves to their class in the entrepreneur block, the furthest block no matter where you are coming from, it will always be the longest walk. on their way there, harry waves his hand at the two of them and draco cannot help rolling his eyes and grunting.

“hey harry!” sophia glees.

“hey sophia, malfoy! heading to class?”

“no, we’re going for a picnic.”

“draco,” sophia sighs, elbowing him. “he’s making an effort here.”

“no matter sophia,” harry manages to keep his tone cheery, “it’ll take time for malfoy to warm up to me.”

“did you forget what i did to your mother?” draco snaps at harry as the entrepreneur block comes into view. “did you forget her low breathing whe—”

“draco!” sophia hisses. draco shuts his mouth immediately not wanting to be elbowed in the ribs again. “he doesn’t mean—”

“i’m used to taunts, especially malfoy’s—”

“doesn’t mean _he_ should be mean.”

“i’ll see you in class.”

draco stomps off in the other direction leaving sophia and harry staring at his retreating back. sophia murmurs that they should head to their higher level economics class, and harry agreeing. before they enter class, students walking around them, sophia turns her back against the wall and looks at harry.

“he’s not the same person,” sophia says to him. harry frowns. “he’s… different. calmer even if he has trouble showing it.”

“clearly.”

“he’s… not… draco… he did not…,” she jumbles her words, trying to find the right thing to say to harry without breaking her new friend’s trust. “we’ve just become friends, you know, and even though he tells me what he has done, he’s not stupid to think he is innocent, i also see the guilt behind his eyes as he says these things. what happened to you during freshmen year and sophomore year when the malfoy family was around was not entirely his fault. he was the poster-child for all your misery, acting out on orders.”

“that’s not entirely true,” harry says slowly.

sophia’s shoulders slump. “i can’t betray him with all that he’s told me—”

“i’m guessing he’s told you who lifted the malfoy ban?”

sophia nods. “it’s quite obvious when you think about it.”

“is it someone i know?”

“you weren’t even in the ban, why do you care?” wonders sophia. harry remains quiet, idly glancing his eyes to the opened classroom slowly filling up. “if you don’t even care about malfoy why the hell do you care about him? you’re just trying to get under his skin, know his secrets, and then banish him again!”

“i want to be his friend and i don’t know the first thing about it,” harry blurts. sophia’s eyes widen. harry takes a deep breath seeing as he has already started, might as well continue. “i’m not dumb, i know what he did to my family, my friend’s family without mercy, all for the name of being powerful than ever, i still feel the pain he caused but that was then and this is now. he’s different, like you said, so am i. i know malfoy realizes that the decisions he’s made until now haven’t always been the best whether right or wrong because i’ve been there a few times except for him—

“what?” sophia snaps. “because he did unforgivable things? things that should have landed him in prison but didn’t? things that made him sound like a cold, serial killer? made him appear to be a robot?” her voice rises as she spits and harry wincing slightly at her dangerous, snappy tone when she is sunshine all around. “well here’s the news flash _styles_ , you too did the same things. you terrorize people, make them regret even crossing your ways, you take down people without remorse and you have the audacity to _judge_   draco? you don’t have a fucking right!”

“that’s what i’m trying to say,” harry exclaims. “i’m trying to be his friend, overlook everything and it’s so damn hard because he won’t even look at me.”

“because draco does not trust easily,” says sophia, darting her eyes to the stairway as if draco will appear at any moment and snap at her for what she has said. “he’s afraid of people getting too close to him, learning about him...”

“you did.”

“because i don’t have a hidden agenda,” she says accusingly.

“i don’t! i just want to be malfoy’s friend.”

“sure,” she rolls her eyes, “because harry can be friends with someone without wanting anything else in return. you’re all the same, _styles_.”

harry kneads the space between his forehead. “louis is my boyfriend in case you’ve forgotten. also, i’m the one whose heart is constantly trampled on because apparently i have too much love.”

“that’s true, i suppose,” she caves in, hearing the truth in his voice.

“so?” he asks, tone hopeful.

sophia bites on her bottom lip. what is she to say to harry without breaking draco’s trust? her mind flashes back to the moment when draco and fu were hanging out at her mansion, looking over which pianos to buy for fu online, and draco told them something about the love of his life, harry potter.

it was a sweet story, if sophia remembers clearly, draco had asked harry how he describes him. potter took his sweet time answering, draco growing impatient with waiting (sophia rolling her eyes because typical, impatient draco), and it was worth the wait. he got draco’s personality, character, all of him down to a t.

“draco is like snow,” she says quietly, raising her eyes to match harry’s. “it’s cold, cruel, egoistical even, to begin with, but it’s somehow beautiful and you miss it when it’s not there.” harry frowns, trying to drink in all she is saying with a soft voice. “and if you hold the snow in your hands close enough, long enough, it changes.” she levels a look. “it melts.”

a lightbulb dings on top of his head. this is exactly what louis told him about rude people needing only to be loved and they will open like a flower. it is the same thing about draco, all of it.

“why are you smiling?” asks sophia, curiously.

after a moment, harry speaks, in a quiet voice, “louis said something similar to me.” he snaps himself out of his trance. “i get it. thanks for telling me.”

“telling you what?” malfoy’s voice startles harry who whips his head to his left. he has his lips in a tight line, his brows crunched together.

where did he come from? he wonders.

“that i’ve been a judgmental twat,” answers harry with a smile. malfoy’s eyes land on sophia who shrugs with a grin then back on harry who is already walking away from them.

“see you around.”

“aren’t you in this class?” sophia questions harry.

“i don’t particularly like economics. i’m in higher level business instead,” says harry. he walks off, leaving malfoy staring at his back and a sad smile on her lips spreading.

 

**=         =          =          =**

 

wednesday at 4 o’clock harry is a sweating and nervous mess. he is in the bathroom splashing water on his face, trying to calm his breathing, to squelch his nerves for what he is about to do.

for their second paint club meeting –  which painter lockhart the great changed to painter and artist provocateur club – they visited the exclusive mark troy gallery to take a look at the provocative and innovative paintings and at times photographs on display in the museum. of course, painter lockhart the great has to point at _his_ paintings that were on display for a moment harry, zayn and taylor wondered if they were here for mark troy’s art or just to see painter lockhart the great’s art pieces.

for their next club meeting, which is today,  painter lockhart the great requested each of them to not paint, but present a provoking photography that talked about the darkest places of their soul.

harry had immediately rushed to find portraits of models from various designers but louis sighed exasperated. _that is not what he means_ , he had told him. _he wants something raw_ , he added. raw? he had wondered. he had no clue… until he saw the photograph of a lady...

he exits the boys bathroom, heading for the art block. already in class, harry takes the seat near zayn who is idly sketching an apple.

“you done with your assignment?” he asks, trying not to sound nervous.

“yeah. you?”

“yeah. i just hope it’s good enough,” he says. painter lockhart the great had told them that if he did not sense the photograph is genuine then they would immediately be kicked out of painter and artist provocateur club… permanently. odd enough, the super rich kids would care less about this threat but somehow everyone wants to impress painter lockhart the great, and not just because he is the great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great da vinci’s grandchild.

soon, the class is full and painter lockhart the great is in class and a steady stream of the club members present their photographs. taylor is up first, with a photograph of herself. harry rolls his eyes. of course, how could he miss that…

half-listening to taylor talk about the intimate parts of her life, somehow involving harry, he is a bundle of nerves. his palms are sweaty, his forehead spotting a thin sheath of sweat, and his new ysl shirt sticking to his skin like glue. he momentarily looks down at his necklace with the crown ring hanging from it.

_“it’s a ring.”_

_harry rolls his eyes. “no shit!”_

_“then why did you ask?”_

_“you know what i mean, what is it?”_

_“it’s a king’s crown,” says louis, holding it close to his hand. “one time you were at the horse thing remember? and i told you that you’re a king, because you are.” he slips the ring on harry’s middle finger. “you’ll always be a king no matter what, or who, comes your way.”_

harry smiles at the memory.

“that was brilliant ryan!” applauds painter lockhart the great loudly, the class slowly joining in. “i loved every bit of it. every single bit of it.” he turns his attention to the class as ryan takes his seat. “remember i said that the two best photographs shall be put on display in _my_ museum and gallery,” he says in his over-the-top american accent. “up next, harry styles.”

harry’s stomach flip flops and his throat closes up. this is it! zayn pats him on the back encouragingly and taylor sends him a blank look. walking to the front of the class, his neck damp from already sweating, he places the photography on display to the entire class.

he ignores the initial reactions from the class, instead breathing in, out, in… out…

he clears his throat. “after months of convincing my father that i wanted a pool, he got me one. he got contractors and all those people to dig a huge hole in the backyard, and soon there was a pool. i lied to him by saying i wanted to learn how to swim but really, i wanted to get a bigger pool than niall’s, liam’s, heck even taylor’s.” taylor scowls from across the room. “and i did. i was in the lead, again.”

he shakes his head, telling himself to not digress from his original story concerning the photo. “i used the pool for other reasons that did not include swimming. i used it to dry my tears, i used it to also muffle my screams but i used it to disappear. at least i thought so,” he chuckles dryly. “i tried every possible method to kill myself, almost succeeding one time when my mother saw me on the ground and immediately rushed me to hospital. the realization that i was alive, with my mother’s loud cries, dawned on me and crushed me. so i was at cross-roads: how do i off myself without disappointing my mother with my helpless sight on the ground with a cracked head?

“i would drown. one time i donned in my best swim shorts – blue with red dolphins – and went to the pool i made my father build. i walked down the steps, making sure the maids were not around, nor my friends, girlfriend,” he adds lightly, “i was alone. then i was engulfed by the gashing sounds of water filling my ears, eyes, skin… heart. i would open my mouth and scream as loud as i can, i would cry as much as i could but ultimately all i got were choking sobs each time. with practice i stayed longer under the water, feeling a sense of calm spreading through as the seconds trickled on the clock, the crushing feeling of water on your chest was peaceful… i felt like i could breath for the first time in my life.”

harry inhales sharply and catches zayn’s eyes across the room. he curtly nods, a small smile on his lips and harry smiles despite himself.

“slowly i became obsessed. each day after school i would rush home from school giving excuses that i had homework, i was meeting with my father to discuss family business, or taking my then girlfriend on a date. instead, i’d wear my swim shorts and jump into the pool, screaming my lungs as they filled with water, emptying my tears into the pool feeling like the pool was not made of water but my tears,” he chuckles sadly then regains himself after being met with stunned silence. “i don’t know why i did it, why i tried to drown myself. i guess i always wanted someone to catch me, to stop me, to pull me out of the pool… but each time there’d be nobody. i would even stay under water hoping somebody would find me underneath the clear waters, even a bloody maid, or my mother,” he adds quietly, “but no one came.” he rubs underneath his nostrils. “i can stay underneath the water for 12 minutes, by the way, without gasping for air.”

he tentatively looks at his photograph, the class and painter lockhart the great’s eyes following him to his large black and white photograph.

“do you see the light at the top?” he asks pointing to the light at the top of the photograph where water bubbles are. some idly nod at harry, others still on their own photographs, making their presentations in their heads. “someone did find me. someone reached into the pool and took my hand, and slowly pulled me out of the pool and that person is louis.” zayn smirks at harry while taylor rolls her eyes, the class still stunned. “you see for the longest time i couldn’t swim, i made excuses that i couldn’t swim, i forgot my swim shorts, i stopped attending parties where i knew there was a pool, my father shouted at me because i wasted money on a pool i wasn’t using anymore… but i couldn’t swim. pools weren’t for swimming, they were used for drowning.

“then one day i got into the pool and i didn’t go under. i didn’t dip my head low, to scream, to cry, to punch the water around me in anger, i didn’t do any of that. i swam. i actually bloody swam like a normal teenager,” he laughs, shaking his head, “and in all this swimming i wanted a clean slate, to start again, for someone to believe in me,” he holds the crown ring between his fingers, “for someone to watch me swim,” he adds, sort of in a daze. “when you get your head out of the water, the days are bright and so are the nights, the water underneath isn’t cold but warm, your tears are replaced with crinkles by your eyes, the screams are replaced with laughter, and your hands are used for hugs,” he says, his throat shaky, “and your heart is on fire and you love him—”

he starts. his eyes grow wide slow, his mouth parting slowly as realization hits him like a truck.

“and you love him,” he repeats mesmerized. his eyes are glassy, his lungs shaking beneath his ribs, his fingers quivering and his body shuddering in his epiphany.

“you love him,” he croaks, not caring about the sudden blurry in front of his vision. “you love him,” he sobs, “i’m winning with him, i’m always reeling, he’s kept me close, and you’re falling for him and you’re not alone because he’s there, you’re high on hope and,” he is rumbling to himself, the class watching in utter confusion at harry, “and i’ve been crazy for him all this time, and he-he’s never let me go and my heart-my heart is always been on fire because i’ve been searching for real love my whole life and… and i… i love him.”

he takes  a breathless gasp.

“i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him so much.”

he finally looks around the class. his shivering body and blinking eyes are met with wide-eyed opened orbits, knowing smiles and smirks, frowns, dreamy eyes, but generally stunned gaping mouths.

“i-i have t-to go,” he stammers.

“there are still 15 minutes left, harry,” painter lockhart the great says, finally finding his voice.

“it doesn’t matter, i have to go,” harry is rushing towards the door, “i have to tell him i love him before it’s too late.”

painter lockhart the great shouts after harry, “he can wait.”

“no he can’t!” the voice shouts from the hallway. running to the football pitch is further than harry’s legs remember but his heart is on fire, his pulse beating against his neck violently, he keeps running. he finds the football pitch not empty but not with the person he is looking for.

“what are you doing here harry?” questions liam. harry has his hands on his knees, gasping for air, muttering something that liam does not catch. “what? catch your breath first.”

he does… but not enough because he is still panting as he asks, “wh-where is… louis?”

“locker room chang—” harry is racing towards the changing rooms already. “why?” he calls back.

ignoring the painful burn in his chest and the visions of death from being a couch potato but managing to have a good body somehow, he finds louis in the changing rooms laughing at something with his team mates. abruptly, louis is walking away from the group, his legs tight together as he walks across the room to…

“louis,” he pants following him.

louis whips around, his legs tight shut. “harry?” he blinks. “what are you—never mind i need to go!”

“wait!”

“no i have—”

louis rushes off to where he is heading, albeit slowly because his legs are rubbing against each other as he walks. harry, having caught his breath somehow, follows him … to the bathroom.

“i have to tell you something important!” harry squeaks in delight.

“can’t it wait?” asks louis, his voice strained as he makes his way to the first stall but cannot as the overwhelming feeling of pee taking over his body.

“today in painter and artist provocateur club—”

“what the fuck is that?” asks louis. he slowly twirls his leg over his other leg and crouching slightly.

“painter lockhart the great told us to present a raw part of ourselves — remember that project i was telling you about? — well, i did. and i found a photo that was raw, like you told me to get, and deep and it has this woman in water—”

louis groans loudly. “when is this riveting story going to end?”

“i began talking. i talked about that one time when you came over to my place after you went to church on sunday and we were lazing around the pool then i was swimming and you were watching me swim, apparently my back muscles look even better in the water—”

louis begins to turn away but harry steps in front of him, standing between him and his one relief at the moment: the toilet.

“so then i told them that in that moment it dawned on me that you were watching me swim… you weren’t watching me drown myself but me swim which is really a metaphor for—”

“fook harry i’m going to pee on myself!”

“i love you!” he exclaims with the biggest grin on his lips, dimples on display and crinkles by his eyes. he looks like the sun itself. louis’ lips part slowly, his eyes growing in wonder at what harry has just said then the moment ends as louis remembers why he is crossing his legs tightly.

“i love you so much!” harry gushes on.

“nggh!” louis can only grunt when his body shakes before warm liquid trickles his thighs, “oh no!” and then down on his leg, “fook me!” and to his socks and some to the floor. “kill me please!”

harry stops blabbering how much he loves louis and his epiphany to find his boyfriend blushing like a tomato with pee running down his legs.

“did yo-you just—”

“yes!” louis screams in complete embarrassment. “because listening to your long, long story of how you love me is more important than my need to pee. badly.”

harry smirks and envelopes louis in a hug. louis tenses under harry’s embrace, awaying his lower half of his body is wet… and smelly. “harry let me go! i have pee on me!”

harry does not budge, in fact he flattens his body more against louis, the dampness of louis’ football shorts pressing against harry’s skinny jeans. “harry,” louis cries. “pee!”

“what’s yours is mine,” harry mumbles into louis’ hair.

“harry, let go!” he yanks his boyfriend off him but the beaming sunbeam remains smiling at him. his eyes drop down to harry’s crotch and left thigh seeing blotches of wetness and his body shudders, his cheeks reddening by the second. “c-ca-can you ge-get my clothes, please?”

“oh right!” harry snaps into reality. “yeah. clothes. where?”

“locker 71.”

harry is back in a flash with louis gym clothes. as louis showers, harry takes one of the spare towels from the rack, wiping louis’ pee off the floor and dumping the towel in the dustbin. he takes a seat after washing his hands when louis walks out of the showers with a towel around his waist, steam evaporating from his wet body.

harry stares, his lips parting slowly as his eyes drink all of (basically) louis in. “you’re gorgeous, angel,” he breathes.

“i’m still mortified,” louis grumbles. he quickly dresses and sits next to harry on one of the benches, his back against the wall and his thigh tight against his boyfriend’s.

“and i’m never washing these jeans,” harry grins, winking at louis.

“kill me now, please!” louis sighs. harry laughs, loud, and louis smiles despite himself. “that was still mortifying no matter what. i can’t believe i peed when you told me you love me.”

“well, my ‘m’ fell down during scrabble when you told me.”

“because that’s so much worse!” harry shrugs at him. “your pants are going to stink of pee.”

“your pee,” harry grins, his chin on louis’ shoulder. he immediately lifts his chin off louis shoulder. “i almost forgot, i left the club without taking my things. it was all a rush and i didn’t want to waste any more time in not saying i love you because—”

“you’re blabbering,” louis rolls his eyes, his cheeks bright red, “and let’s go get your stuff.”

 

back at liam’s modern mansion, where the tomlinson family are currently living until johannah can find a proper house, larry stylinson are cozied up together in louis’ room, the events of the day still bright on their minds.

liam lept with joy at the news, harry including the peeing incident, and immediately ordered his kitchen staff to whip out a great meal, and lots and lots of champagne (for harry) and beer. they drank merrily, and ate to their fill, liam laughing at the funny parts of the story, gawking at harry at other parts, and mumbling, ‘i’m so sorry,’ at when he talked of pool parties, and in the end, louis kissing him passionately when the story was over.

winding down, harry suggests they play monopoly after he shuns down the idea of playing fifa on liam’s xbox. louis grudgingly states that he was the one who was mortified today and should at least get to play fifa. harry grants him his wish and soon enough they both of them are playing fifa. harry is surprisingly good, considering he hates anything football related but playing fifa against him, louis is starting to doubt his ‘hate’ for football.

after louis nightly smoke of three cigarettes, harry still insists that they play monopoly, the indian version even if it is eleven thirty-seven at night.

“do you want to go to bed?” louis questions.

harry shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself form smiling too much. i never want to sleep now. fuck i want to stay awake for the rest of my life. i love you.”

“i love you,” louis hums, locking his lips with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fell in love with the photograph and that was my prompt for harry realizing he LOVES lou <3 AND FINALLY, they both say the three words to each other... we can MOVE on from this bump (:
> 
> thank you for reading this far guys, and we've got loads to go ♦


	67. 0.66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and malfoy strengthen their friendship.

 

> **when you judge people, you have no time to love them.**

 

          after having listened to sophia’s advice about malfoy, harry, his boyfriend and liam make their way to the school courtyard where he knows malfoy and his two friends will be.

this entire week he has been trying, desperately even, to get malfoy to talk to him. heck, with his terrible luck even a 2-second look would have been welcoming. knowing the malfoy’s love of attention and flashes of money, he bought him a range of forest green cars: range, bugatti, cadillac, jeep, audi… all other types but malfoy shrugged and walked off, before letting sophia drop each key back onto his hand.

he got a flashback of when his boyfriend, louis, when he did the same thing to him when he bought him the latest bmw.

next up are clothes. if there is one thing he knows about the malfoys is that they know how to dress, even better than chuck bass and _himself_ \- which is saying a lot. he got him into the next  burberry show that is quite hard to get into – that neither liam nor taylor can get into – but because of malfoy’s membership of the exclusive toarechosen club, it was easy for him to get in anywhere he wants, or pleases.

by the seventh attempt harry was getting desperate. he was rapidly becoming obsessed with making draco malfoy be his friend. he was not getting through to malfoy and he was desperately asking sophia, even fu, for help. anything to get through to malfoy but all he got was a pointed, raise-eyebrow look (or was it glare?) from the tall blond.

“i still don’t know why you’re hot and bothered about malfoy,” liam says to him as they make their way to the school courtyard. “he’s an arrogant git and will always be. he hasn’t changed.”

“he has,” harry says, liking the feel of louis’ hand warm in tangled with his. “i mean look at sophia.”

“she’s been brainwashed,” says liam with even more vigor and bitterness. “ever since he came back, nothing has happened and we all know when something is this quiet it usually means someone _somewhere_ is plotting. taylor hasn’t been screaming at people and offering bans freely, niall hasn’t been making louis’ life horrid,” louis makes a noise from harry’s right side, “you know what i mean,” he smiles sheepishly, “and generally people staying away from malfoy apart from those two oafs who are hovering around like lost puppies.” he pauses to laugh in an evil manner. “until he makes their mothers suffer like zayn’s or yours.”

“liam!” exclaims louis, horrified.

“he’s used to it,” liam says in a shrugging tone. “plus zayn and harry are not the only ones—”

“doesn’t mean you should keep reminding my boyfriend about it!”

“okay,” liam gives them both his promising smile. “i wonder what we’re having for lunch.”

“hope it’s not pasta again,” groans louis.

“from eating it at home to school again,” liam laughs and the three of them laugh heartily. “can’t imagine the torture.”

for trying to be friends with malfoy, both taylor and niall placed a ban on harry, and for the fun of it, louis too.

“i’m sorry for the ban,” harry says stepping out into the school courtyard.

“it doesn’t matter,” louis grins up at harry. “i just hope that you will eventually get through malfoy’s thick, blond head.”

harry chuckles. “difficult people seem to be plenty in my life, he’s no exception.”

“he is,” liam insists, his tone dripping with malice. “he’ll always be difficult, cruel and incapable of feeling. heck, i _prefer_ niall.”

“there he is!” harry says excitedly when he spots malfoy. he turns to louis: “i’ll see you for lunch? later?” louis nods, pressing his lips to harry’s in a chaste kiss. “love you.”

“love you asshead,” he calls out as liam waves bye to harry. nervously, harry makes his way to the banned trio, as they are called around school.

“— i will not play the piano,” drawls draco to fu.

“hey!” the two of them turn to harry standing awkwardly before them, while malfoy’s look lifts from looking at fu to harry’s. “lovely day for a picnic?” the three of them exchange glances before looking back at harry with odd eyes boring into him.

“hi harry.”

“hey fu,” harry grins down at fu. “lovely lunch?”

“yes.”

“what are you eating?”

“rice.”

“just rice?” asks harry, aware that sophia and malfoy are looking intently at him through the peculiar conversation with fu.

“rice is best eaten when it is very white, without sauce and all those idiot things people add.”

“meat?” asks harry, still standing.

“i’m a vegetarian.”

“really?”

“why are you surprised?”

“i was a vegetarian for three months before i couldn’t do it anymore,” explains harry in what he hopes is a cheery voice. his nervousness is creeping in what with sophia’s puzzled eyebrows and malfoy’s piercing look.

“i’ve been one all my life. i don’t believe in killing anything.”

“me too,” he agrees though somehow he does not know why. “why?” he then asks.

“killing hurts.”

harry blinks. that is not what he thought she would say, he expected her to say something like _killing is wrong!_ or _it is unnatural_ but she said something else. absentmindedly, his eyes move to malfoy. the pointed blond scowls at him, stabbing his diced pineapples.

“what are you doing here harry?” asks sophia sweetly, with her happy charm.

“i was… i wanted to… talk to malfoy… alone.”

“what you say to them you say to me,” he says, dryly.

harry gulps. “cool. i was… i was hope… hoping that yo—me and yo-you could go for… a hang out?”

malfoy raises an ice blond eyebrow. “why? don’t you need to find time this afternoon to buy me another boring gift? uncreative, styles.”

harry looks flustered. “i… i was attempting to be your friend,” he whispers.

“then don’t.”

“draco!” sophia hisses.

“i don’t want to be his friend,” he scowls, stabbing his pineapples with his fork. “i don’t want to pretend that we are even friends. your family and mine are not friends, not even colleagues like you and the horan family. we are just two different people who knew each other two years ago, one who tortured your mother to dea—”

“draco!” sophia hisses, elbowing his stomach.

“it’s alright,” harry laughs through the awkwardness, “it’s… understandable.” draco narrows his eyes, sophia raises an eyebrow and fu takes a spoonful of rice. “but… i’m not giving up on being your friend draco.”

it all happens in a blur. malfoy abruptly stands, as if something snaps inside him, and walks over to stunned harry and punches him square in the face.

“don’t ever call me _draco_!” he spits, ice-cold venom in his voice. “never call me that name. you of all people will never call me that and if you dare call me that i won’t hesitate to slide a knife down your throat and chop your lungs!”

harry has recovered from the blow, his palm grazing over his burning cheek. he is too busy wondering if he is bleeding to hear angry hisses from sophia and fu munching quietly on her rice.

“can’t you see harry is trying to make an effort to be your friend and you’re here punching him for it!” sophia scolds. harry stands from the ground, patting his cheek lightly.

“he does not get to call me by my first name,” he growls. “you know that. you know he doesn’t get to.”

if harry’s cheek had not been hurting like it was, he would have wondered what he meant by that. instead he waves the three of them off stating that he is fine, he will survive and it is not his first time being punched.

“what were you suggesting?”

harry turns to fu. “what?”

“what were you saying earlier about hanging out with draco?”

“i thought we could just hang out, do whatever, be friends,” he says, unsure of himself now.

“what did you have in mind?”

“uh… um, whatever malfoy wants, we do,” he answers looking straight at malfoy. malfoy narrows his eyes, still shaking with anger. “anything.”

“great,” cheers sophia happily, “he will be there.”

“no, i won’t.”

sophia smiles widely at harry, unaffected by draco glowering. “yes he will.”

“no, he won’t.”

“yes he will.” malfoy and harry turn to fu. “he will like to hang out with you. no water, though.”

“of course,” harry nods, not questioning why water is not allowed. “no water. got it.”

“fine,” draco agrees through clenched teeth. “but sophia and fu will be there as well.”

“alright.” harry wanted to seem cool, nonchalant but he was pretty sure his excitement seeped through his words. “where do you want to go?”

“laser tag.”

harry blinks at fu. “laser tag? why?”

“why not?” sneers malfoy.

“sure, sure. when?”

“friday.”

“can’t we do thursday, or saturday?” wonders harry. malfoy stares at him. “please.” draco maintains his intent stare. “friday is date night with my boyfriend, louis.”

“draco can compromise,” sophia grins. “we’ll do thursday.”

“on one condition,” malfoy smirks at harry who involuntarily shudders. “you will have to bring two people for company since i’m bringing fu and sophia.” harry nods. “not so quick to agree, styles. you can’t bring tomlinson.” harry breathes in through his nose. “or payne. or horan. or any of those who were on the list that banned my family from the uk.”

“that’s everyone,” harry cries.

“two people, styles,” draco smirks at him, his eyes having an evil glitter to them. “let’s make this interesting. no rich people allowed either. i want those peasant, poor, ghastly friends that you have. and i’ll know if they are your friend or not.” 

“i have no one,” harry says desperately. his mind is blank in who to invite because it has dawned on him that he has no – for lack of a better word – _poor_ friends. or those who are not influential in the uk’s society.

“i’ll make it easy for you: bring zayn.”

“zayn?” he questioned. harry was surprised that zayn was on malfoy’s radar that he did not question as to why he was calling zayn by his first name and not, like he does with everyone, their surname. “why zayn?”

“just bring him!”

“alright, zayn.”

 **=     =     =     =**  


“you know when you texted me saying i meet you alone in the it block i thought you meant blowjobs not hacking,” harry says, a faint smirk on his lip. “it is lunch time after all!”

“hush! lock the door and come over.”

“oh my, oh my, feisty, are we?” harry locks the door behind him. it is a day before harry is to ‘hang out’ with malfoy and he told louis everything about the courtyard drama. louis listened to the whole of it, half the time wondering why his boyfriend wants to be friends with the insufferable git but he kept that part of his brain shut and listened whole-heartedly to harry.

however, louis had been thinking, thinking hard about the exclusive toarechosen where even the super rich kids cannot _be a member_ should they choose. instead of letting harry go through the ordeal of befriending malfoy just to get back in the club, why not hack your way back in? and since harry is part of the hacker 10 and, according to liam and gossip, harry is the best of all ten of them (so good he is not part of the ten).

“what’s the plan?” asks harry, taking the seat that louis had previously been occupying. louis pulls a chair and sits beside him, thigh against thigh. his fingertips graze the back of harry’s neck and the tug on harry’s lips colors his cheeks rose.

louis eyes twinkle. “well, since you want back in the club for some reason i still don’t understand, you can hack your way in.”

harry waits for louis to add something, anything, but louis looks at him expectantly. “that’s it? that’s your big plan?”

“well,” he huffs in mock-offense, “you don’t like malfoy and, quite frankly, watching you try to be his friend is plain second-hand embarrassment,” harry rolls his eyes, “so i thought that since you’re one of the hacker 10 then you are able to access the club’s website and get your way in… or find a way back to being a member.”

“but once you’re out, you’re out.”

“true but just because you’ve been kicked out doesn’t mean your name is not on the website. your name could still be on there. plus,” he sighs deeply, “i can’t believe i’m saying this aloud to my boyfriend but marrit was fond of you and somehow i feel like it wasn’t just about sex between you two—”

“that is hard to say.” he cannot help the smile growing on his lips and louis tugs his man bun. “ow!”

“as i was saying, she was rather fond of you and would, i don’t know, make sure you were a member despite you wanting to quit and not explaining to her why.”

“i actually did,” he says to him, leaning his knee against louis, “i explained to her about the malfoy family wanting their way in, about my mother’s illness and how she was at death’s door, and all she said was i shouldn’t let the likes of malfoy bully me into getting out of the club.” he turns his head to the old, cream dell computer, the blue windows background staring at his face. “but i see your point. do you think she would have done something like this? for me?”

“like i said before – and i can’t believe i’m saying this because i am your boyfriend – but yes, i think she did, that old, old, old woman.”

harry lightly knocks his knee, laughing despite himself. “she wasn’t that old.”

“uh-huh.”

“hopefully they haven’t changed their website name,” says harry, typing fast on the cream keyboard as white boxes appear all over the screen, “because then that means this is all a waste.”

“of course not,” louis says, watching harry type and oddly being turned on by it, “because marrit wouldn’t do that. she knows you’d somehow want to get back in the club.”

harry lights up at louis. “you’re right! i’m in. they haven’t changed their website name.”

“sick! what now?”

“well,” he starts, typing on the cream keyboard once more, “we just need to get through the website’s firewalls and security. obviously their password is not the same because they always suspect previous members want to hack in or something.” pause. louis chuckles on harry’s shoulder. “they probably made that rule while thinking about me.”

“most definitely.”

“well, we have to wait for it to load.” louis’ looks to the computer screen and sees a circle spinning anti-clockwise with  “14%” written in gold inside the circle. “shouldn’t take long, but with these old computers who knows.”

“why does the school keep these computers? it’s not like we use them. we use the computer lab upstairs.”

“kendall’s mother donates money for its maintenance,” harry explains. “probably because of the hacking thing. these are the best because it is harder to know _who_ is hacking as compared to the computers upstairs.”

“all this just makes me glad i dropped it,” louis smiles, “or else i’d be lost, lost, lost in class.”

“it’s not that bad. it’s quite simple if you get the basics of it.”

“have you gotten your second person for your hangout with malfoy?” asks louis. harry shakes his head. he leans into louis’ touch on the base of his neck. “i love your shirt today, by the way. looks spectacular.”

harry blushes lightly. “thank you. i always fancied yellow but when i saw a yellow shirt with black polka dots in the gucci shop i had to buy it. didn’t want some bitch taking it.”

“you and shirts,” louis shakes his head.

“and you and manchester city,” harry says eyeing louis’ football jersey. “what happened to ‘liverpool is the best football club in the world’?”

“after pep’s move to city, and klopp being almost as bad as wenger, i switched. plus pep plays to win; he gets results from all his buying, selling, formation, all of it yields results. what has liverpool done? last season it was below the top ten in the league table,” he sighs exasperated, “and now, now klopp is going to pull liverpool lower and lower in the league table and get them relegated like newcastle and aston villa.”

“aston villa is gone?” asks harry, surprise evident in his voice.

“you’re not a fan, are you?”

“of course not,” he sticks out his tongue, “i’m not even a football fan. i’m just surprised. liam always said aston villa were good.”

“in the stone age.” louis lifts his head off harry’s shoulder. “plus,  when was the last time liverpool was in the champions league?”

harry shrugs.

“that’s how bad it is.”

“or is it because you have a tiny crush on pep?” teases harry, his finger poking his side. “already forgetting about beckham, are we?”

louis gasps in mock outrage. “i’ll have you know nobody can replace beckham. and pep is just good at his job… really good.”

“hmm. suuuure, his job,” harry smirks, his adam’s apple dancing by fighting down laughter. louis narrows his eyes and harry lets his laughter fill the room. “you’re whipped over pep.” louis rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest. harry coming down from his laughter, takes louis hands away from his chest then holding them between his before kissing his knuckles briefly. “you’ll always be beckham’s number one, alright?”

“yeah. i better be.”

harry resists rolling his eyes. he leans back into the chair. “i still haven’t got someone. i really wish i could have taken you except malfoy and his stupid conditions for being friends.”

“well, you have zayn so now you just need another. why zayn?”

“when he was buying lady marie-antoinette from me because i had it since the maliks could not afford to maintain the horse, he told me that he was trying to make amends with zayn. he didn’t tell me why, just that he was. so i didn’t question it.”

“that horse is ridiculously priced!” exclaims louis and ignoring harry’s, _she has a name, be respectful,_ he voices his concern of why anyone would buy it. “except maybe you.”

“and everyone at the horse show.”

louis throws his head back, grunting.

“i have zayn but i need to find someone who is… well, not part of my circle,” says harry trying not to say ‘peasants’ like malfoy did though he is thinking it. “and i’m starting to realise that i have no one like that apart from you in my circle.”

“well what about meghan?” suggests louis.

“nope.”

“melodie?”

“never.”

“maggie?”

“nah.”

“bea?”

“definitely not.”

“billy?”

“then we talk about oranges the entire time just because his father owns large farms in wales?” snorts harry. “i’d rather not be friends with malfoy.”

“birdy?”

“then we talk about how her mother came up with that name?” harry scoffs. “i do _not_ think so. we all know that her mother was a fan of the singer birdy and when birdy was twelve her mother changed her birth certificates.”

“how do you know this?”

“we were in the same group for chemistry early this year and tony commented that her name is the same as the singer and then she told us the story.”

“bobby?”

“bobby?” parrots harry, his mouth curling in disgust. “bobby? louis, i know you don’t smoke weed but did you perhaps smoke some at lunch?”

“oi!” louis hits his shoulder. “i’m just trying to find a pleasant person for malfoy.”

“alright, alright, who am i to judge anyway? i barely have average brit friends,” says harry lightly when he really means ‘poor.’

“average rocks,” louis says his eyes darting to the computer screen. it is at 68%. “amy?”

“the goth?”

“i’m goth,” louis lifts an eyebrow, “nothing wrong with that.”

“of course. speaking of, are you ever going to finish your sleeve?” louis has been working on inking his left arm with paintings, drawings, doodles with lots, lots of colors looking a lot like ed sheeran’s sleeve tattoo. over the year, his left arm has been filling up, every other day harry noticing the sparkling white teeth on louis when he shows him his latest ink. “you’re almost filling up your arm, just have the wrist area left.”

“i’m excited actually. though now i don’t know what to draw.”

“well,” harry’s finger trails down from his elbow to his wrist, “half your arm is filled with footballs and skateboards, can’t be that hard to know what you’ll draw next.”

“ha ha,” louis mechanically laughs. “i’ll be creative. definitely not inking a banana on my arm!”

“because oranges are better?” challenges harry, lifting an eyebrow to him. yes, as part of trying to get a sleeve, louis got an orange tattoo in the dent of his elbow as part of a dare between him and his sister, fizzy. he lost. “honestly, how can you lose to your sister in scrabble? have i not taught you anything?”

“my sensei is a terrible,” louis mumbles hotly to his ear. his fingers let harry’s hair fall down to the base of his neck softly by pulling off the hair tie. he sticks out his tongue, lapping it on harry’s earlobe. harry sits very still, his hand gripping louis’ thigh. “maybe if my sensei did not play hard words like oligospermia i would be great.” he tugs harry’s earlobe, harry’s hand riding up louis’ thigh. “still can’t believe that’s a word.”

“how did you not know that’s the word for deficiency of sperm cells in semen?” harry chuckles, his breath shallow and his grip tight. “oligospermia. very easy word. that is literally beginner’s scrabble.”

louis lips rub his earlobe before sitting back leaving his hand combing through the hair on harry’s neck. “that’s what you call beginners? beginners are words like land, glossy, leash, meat, nonagenarian…”

“nona _what_?”

“nonagenarian,” louis clarifies. harry frowns at him, his eyes questioning. “it is a person between 90 and 99 years, according to oxford definitions.”

“stupid oxford definitions,” laughs harry. “someone’s been reading the dictionary.”

“had to with all your superiority when playing scrabble,” louis huffs. before harry protests, he suggest, “how about trisha?”

harry’s eyes widen. “oh yeah! trisha! why didn’t i think of her? do you mind?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “of course i don’t mind. though can’t believe it took us this long to figure… oh, it’s 100% already. we’re in!”

harry and louis sit upright in their seats, louis hand now on harry’s shoulder as he types onto the keyboard, the computer screen only showing the homepage of the toarechosen club. louis nibbles on his bottom lip watching harry’s face focused on the screen, his long fingers flying above the keyboard like magic and he nibbles harder on his bottom lip.

“there is my name,” says harry. “wow! i’m listed in the _forgotten and former member_ list. rude asses.”

“remember we’re looking for a way in,” says louis gently. “we’re looking for a connection in the club to let you in without malfoy’s involvement.”

“right.” he types some more and a new page opens up with the webpage title _members_. “looks like i can’t access current members, or expelled members but… oh there we go. forgotten members i am allowed, rude, and exclusive members… then there is…”

“what’s the letters members?” asks louis, his finger jabbing the screen. harry shifts the mouse and clicks on the link. the webpage has a list of letters from a to n. “is this like a sort of rating list? like how there are a-list, b-list celebrities, now this club has the same?”

“they didn’t have this before,” harry murmurs. “looks like it’s something new.”

“click on a.”

harry does but he is not allowed to see the members. he tries the letter g and he is not allowed, he tries the following letter but he is not allowed either, but on letter k the list opens up and there are four names that are not familiar to harry and obviously not to louis. harry grumbles, his fingers laying helplessly on the cream keyboard.

 “let’s go back to the previous webpage and see what we can access.”

harry does and he begins typing on the keyboard, louis’ bottom lip being ravished. “i can access a few webpages like distinguished members, honourable members, dead members, lifetime members – seriously? – forever members, oh, this one is new, rich members.”

“isn’t everyone rich?” asks louis.

“yeah, they are but there are levels of rich and wealthy. let’s see the forever members. maybe marrit is there.” a new webpage opens with the webpage titled _lifetime forever members_ and first on the list is marrit marrit. “there she is.”

“her name is marrit _marrit_? creative much.” harry lightly elbows him. “but at least this promising, right?”

“it says here that she chose to sponsor me which automatically puts me in the… for… ever membership… of the club.” harry remains staring at the screen, dazed beyond words. “i am a forever member! i am a _forever_ _member,_ angel! i am forever in this club.”

“this entire time you were a member?” louis cannot believe it either.

“it seems,” harry beams. “but there is a problem. i… oh… oh that’s… well that explains it all.

“what? what?” asks louis, his eyes dancing around the webpage but not seeing anything in particular. “what explains what?”

“there’s a reason why i didn’t _know_ i was a member still.” he types. “turns out lucius malfoy, who gave his son malfoy the membership to the club, suspended me two years ago when i quit the club.”

“but you _did_ quit?”

“turns out marrit didn’t _let_ me quit. she is one of the founding members of the club and so she was able to put me in the forever members list. however, i have been suspended and my suspension can only be lifted if malfoy lifts it.” he grunts. “great. i have to wait for that draco malfoy to allow me back in.”

“at least you’re in, not out,” says louis, his thumb drawing circles on harry’s shoulder. “and since you’re on the right track to befriending him, your suspension will be lifted in no time. look on the bright side, malfoy is way better than his father lucius malfoy, according to the gossip i’ve been hearing where he is just terrible.”

“it was more like the reverse of out of the frying pan into the fire. lucius was the fire and draco is the frying pan.”

“so no better, but better at the same time.”

harry nods and louis looks slightly defeated.

“oh wow, look! draco malfoy is not on the forever members list. he is in the lifetime forever members. oh this is good,” harry beams, “this is magnificent.”

“why? why?”

“according to the website,” reads harry from the webpage, “only those on the list of forever members shall never be removed from the club. that means that anyone in any other list such as current members, exclusive members, letters members, dead members, yadda yadda yadda… or even honourable members can be expelled.”

“how do you expel those who have died?”

“you can remove them from the club database and pretend they were never in the club. that happened to some russian family in 2006.”

“sucks,” louis mutters.  “but look, you’re one step closer to getting your father’s attention and approval.”

harry smiles.

 **=     =     =     =**  


** **

“this is going to be the weirdest hangout ever,” murmurs zayn, sitting in the back of harry’s mercedes. harry, trisha and zayn are heading to the location that malfoy earlier texted harry for their laser tag hangout. “i should be sleeping.”

“lucky for us today is a holiday,” says harry, eyes drifting to the time – 10:41a.m. – on his dashboard.

“this is going to be the best day ever,” trisha beams. she snaps a selfie for snapchat. “do you know how much respect i’ll have in school? i mean, i’m the captain of the cheerleading team, my boyfriend is niall _horan_ , my best friend is _the_ harry styles… people are going to be jealous of me. finally people will show me the respect i deserve.”

“glad i could help,” zayn dryly says.

“aw c’mon zayn, don’t be a glum chum, you’re still awesome.”

zayn rolls his eyes. “tch. i still don’t see why you want to be friends with that git.”

“i want to be friends with malfoy,” says harry taking a left turn, “and if he wants two friends at laser tag, then two friends i shall get. you know he asked for you, right?”

“he’s just trying to get me to forgive him for what he did to my mother.”

“and he’s sorry for that,” stresses harry. “now can we talk about something else… and stop playing maroon 5.”

“surprise you know who they are,” zayn says watching buildings pass by through the window. “you only know beethoven.”

“don’t forget mozart,” snickers trisha.

“classical music will always be the best,” defends harry, taking another left turn.

“well, we’re not louis so we don’t want to listen to classical music,” trisha says and zayn heaves a sigh of relief, “instead we are listening to maroon 5.” and zayn sighs defeated, hitting the back of his head to the leather seat. “plus who hates _one more night_?”

“me!”

“oh shut it malik, this song is a classic.”

“you know what is a classic?... beethoven,” grins harry, wriggling his eyebrows. both zayn and trisha protest against him. “fine but no maroon 5 will be playing in this car. we’ve got 25 minutes left till we get there.”

“my poor ears will bleed if we keep listening to this dumb band. don’t you have rock?”

“define rock,” asks zayn sceptically.

“avril lavigne? _sk8er boi_?”

“old much,” zayn rolls his eyes that harry catches through the rear view mirror. trisha nevertheless presses play on her phone and the rock song plays through the car. “how about greenday?”

“too scary,” she answers pointing her phone to her face. harry chuckles under his breath and zayn breathes out frustratingly. “off to laser tag industries today, my snapchat admirers. here i have harry,” she angles her phone so as harry is in the snapchat video then to zayn, “along with grumpy zayn, and today’s going to be a blast.”

“snapchat, again? do you even have _followers_ apart from harry, louis and your three minions?”

“i have thousands of views _zayn_ , more than any you have.”

“i quit snapchat.”

“because your only viewer was gigi. and doniya, your sister.”

“ha! you’re hilarious.”

“i am now change the bloody song. avril lavigne is old news.”

ignoring zayn lowly fuming in the back, she asks harry, “where did you get your shirt?”

harry briefly looks down at his red shirt with large black squares all over it. “from gucci’s autumn collection. and i love your dress.”

trisha beams under the compliment and responds with a large grin. soon, the three pull up to laser tag industries at preciously 11:15am that malfoy specifically asked. they make their way inside the place, the strong smell of card box and leather hitting their nostrils and mild darkness. they follow the neon green arrow signs to where, thankfully, it is light and they see malfoy, sophia and fu.

“harry!” sophia is the first to spot the three and hugs harry first, followed zayn and trisha. fu nods at them and malfoy has a smirk on his face.

“you came?” he says, almost as if he did not expect harry to find a second person for their hangout.

“of course,” harry smiles widely at malfoy. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“hi trisha,” malfoy greets her with the utmost charm. he bends slightly, her hand clasped in his, and kisses her knuckles. “i’m glad you could make it.”

trisha blushes under malfoy’s grey eyes. “we’re going to have so much fun.”

“now that you’re here.” malfoy shifts his glance to zayn. “hey zayn. glad you could make it.” zayn simply nods leaning against the wall. “right. welcome to laser tag industries which is owned by my family.”

“you own this place?” trisha gasps as zayn rolls his eyes. “this is sick!”

“that’s what i was saying,” sophia grins at malfoy then to trisha. “he’s so lucky he can just come here anytime he wants.”

“thanks, gorgeous,” says malfoy his eyes glittering at sophia. he goes onto explain the plan for today: laser tag, lunch, and a surprise after lunch. in other words, they shall be spending the entire day at laser tag industries and part of the evening. they go ahead, getting their equipment and gear for the game, and form teams: team fu and team trisha. at the gate of the maze, each team is plotting their tactics for winning. or trying to…

“will you stop posting on snapchat all the time?” zayn snaps. “we’re going to lose if we don’t plot our defence.”

“the plan is simple: go in there, shoot like crazy and hope you’re not killed.” zayn stares, hoping trisha was joking, and harry laughs despite himself. “or don’t be the first to be shot or that’ll be embarrassing.”

“trisha cappelletti,” zayn says, gritting his teeth. “first, you played that horrible reggae music, then you made us listen to maroon 5 and, if that wasn’t bad enough, we sat through avril lavigne and now, now you’re suggesting we don’t get shot first?” zayn’s fists clench. “stop fooking snapping!”

“c’mon trisha,” harry says a little uncomfortable with zayn frustration. “let’s get through this till lunch, yeah?”

trisha gives in upon seeing harry’s pleading look. “fine. you’ve got a better plan?”

zayn nods. it is not his first time playing laser tag. he explains the plan to them, and before they know it, they are in the maze executing zayn’s winning plan. not surprising to zayn, the speakers announces trisha has been shot by fu _seconds_ into the game. four minutes into the game, no one has been shot yet, the metallic sounds playing in the back that sound like one of those songs louis plays in harry’s car when he drives back to louis’ house on sundays after church. harry resists the urge to record the music playing, knowing zayn will not hesitate shoot him even if they are in the same team. the speakers announce the demise of sophia, shot by zayn, and immediately fu has been shot by zayn as well. malfoy surprises harry, who had been contemplating on whether to record the music or not, and shoots him out of the game.

“how were you shot?” asks trisha when he walks out of the maze.

“malfoy caught me,” harry grumps, fanning his forehead. he has a thin line of sweat on his forehead and his expensive shirt is sticking to his body and on top his gear is making him feel extra hot and sweaty as well.

“draco’s pretty sneaky.”

“he bloody is,” mutters harry, agreeing with fu.

“but so is zayn.”

“can we choose our teams when this round is over?” asks trisha. “i’d love to be with malfoy.” fu, sophia, harry all hear her dreamy voice. trisha’s wishes comes soon when zayn wins the game by shooting malfoy and in their next round, trisha is teaming up with malfoy and actively avoiding zayn on her team.

“i’ll be with fu,” says zayn tactically at malfoy.

“how about we form three groups instead of two?” suggests sophia. they agree. “then i’ll be with harry.” harry high-fives her, with a motivational one-liner on their win this time.

the second round surprises zayn. sophia is the first to be shot out, by fu, and the second is zayn who is shot by, well, his own teammate fu.  “survival is key,” she cryptically says before she shoots him. zayn walks out to find sophia and is stunned to see he is the _second_ one to be shot. he had hoped someone had been shot when fu was shooting him. out comes harry, followed by malfoy and the two people left are fu and trisha.

“that bitch!” zayn fumes. “she can’t play laser tag to save her life and now she is in there for long. she’s a fooking fraud.”

“we all know why,” harry smirks, sophia giggling beside him.

“she’s quite good,” malfoy says.

“only because she’s on your team,” zayn exclaims. zayn loses it when fu walks out of the maze and trisha is declared the winner. “you know what, fook this. another round and this time i’m with malfoy.”

“sophia,” harry calls. and that leaves fu with trisha.

this time trisha is the first to be shot and zayn is snickering in the maze when the speakers announce her exit. clutching the gun in his hands tighter, he instructs malfoy that they head to the upper part of the maze where they have a better view of the maze and can spot the rest. the speaker announces the exit of sophia and immediately after fu.

zayn and malfoy split up planning on shooting harry as their main goal then they take on each other. zayn, having been on a team with harry, tells him that harry likes hiding and waits until there is one person left then comes of hiding and to shoot. unknown to them, harry had positioned himself where they  were heading at the upper part of the maze and shot malfoy and zayn immediately.

“harry!” trisha glees running to hug him. “you won!”

“that was fun!” harry grins, catching his breath and fanning his face. “honestly, it’s like a warzone in there. so much tension for no reason.”

“oh there is reason,” malfoy’s voice speaks. “whoever wins most of the games gets to decide what each one will eat for lunch,” he turns to harry with a malicious smile,” and they have to eat it.”

“in that case, we’re all going to eat nothing but cayenne pepper,” zayn snickers at trisha.

“i’ve won one game, zayn,” trisha rolls her eyes, “and i’ll beat your skinny ass again.”

the third game, fu calls out harry to be on her team, malfoy paired with trisha again, leaving sophia with zayn. fu shoots harry and he is the first to exit, mumbling something about traitors under his breath. fu who, somehow, caught onto harry’s secret, settles herself in the upper part of the maze, shooting trisha out of the game on her way there. she finds malfoy who shoots her instead and she is out of the game.

“loser,” harry cackles at fu who only narrows her eyes at him.

“how the hell am i always out of the game?” trisha mumbles. “what are your strategies?”

“not telling,” says harry, keeping his eyes on the gate of the maze.

zayn walks through, trisha cheering and fu staring in surprise. she remains staring when is it malfoy, not sophia, who walks through and sophia is declared the winner.

“how about this time we are on our own?”

malfoy looks at fu before drifting his eyes at them, questioning them if they agree with her. trisha immediately cheers, sneering at zayn, and clutches her gun close to her chest. the fifth game malfoy wins and trisha is the second last one to be shot.

“can we play another game because no one has won twice in the last five games?” asks trisha, standing close to malfoy. malfoy grins down at her.

“of course. and new rule is that you need to win,” he pauses briefly glancing at trisha all smiley, “three games?” trisha nods her eyes twinkling at malfoy. “you need to win three games to choose what we will all eat.”

zayn rolls his eyes and harry resists the urge to join when trisha jumps up and down in excitement. malfoy is sweet to everyone except _him_. but harry is not one to give up.

“i’ll be on malfoy’s team,” he announces. trisha jumps, adding her too.

“then it is sophia, zayn and i on one team.”

this time there is no planning, they all head into the maze, splitting in their three groups. harry’s team find a spot in the dark maze near a box that is somewhat hidden.

“we can’t go to the upper part of the maze because i bet that’s where fu is heading,” speculates malfoy.

“i agree.” now harry rolls his eyes at trisha’s dreamy tone. “we need to stick close together because it’ll be harder for them to hit us that way.”

“i think zayn and sophia will be eliminated first because fu shoots her own partners,” says harry. “when she does, it’ll be her against us.”

“and she wastes no time in going for the weak so—”

“you’re safe trisha,” harry says earning a shove from trisha.

“she’s quite strong, styles.”

“i am,” she says in her flirty voice to malfoy.

true to their predictions, sophia and zayn are eliminated and there are four left in the maze. malfoy suggest that someone – meaning harry – go on a hunt to look for fu and the other two – meaning malfoy and trisha – shall follow behind. harry is the first to run, screaming as well, when he sees fu running towards him and he takes the immediate right turn. harry keeps running, shutting his mouth from making _more_ noise, running as fast as he can from fu. he stops running when the speaker announce the exit of fu.

harry does not know if this is a good thing or not but he knows that malfoy and trisha are coming for him, no doubt, and will likely shoot him, no doubt, and trisha will let malfoy shoot her so that he can win, no doubt. he is in a hidden spot in the semi-dark place with straight green and red lights dancing above the maze.

he calms his breathing, willing himself to relax. he does so easily, all those classes of yoga he has been going for with mckenzie on tuesdays paying off. his mind drifts to recently when he was playing on liam’s xbox _grand theft auto_ with louis and how he kept on saying, after his points never moved above 1,000, that the secret is to always stay hidden yet be seen, that is how you stay winning. after multiple tries, his points on the video game rose and was almost at par with his boyfriend’s – much to the shock of louis’ and liam.

harry knows what to do. right now he is hidden and therefore he cannot _see_ thus being at a disadvantage. he gets out of his hiding place, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, but keeps walking gingerly. he listens to any sudden movements but opts not to because the music silences any light movements like footsteps or guns accidentally hitting the maze walls.

the speaker announces the exit of trisha and harry smiles because he was right but panics because he knows malfoy is a good player. he finds a spot in the dark maze where he can be hidden but he is able to see and it is a much better spot than the upper part of the maze. he looks around at his surroundings, trying to memorize it for the next game but it is impossible when suddenly the music changes but in those two seconds it takes to change he hears footsteps.

he is on alert, his fingers on the trigger, his breathing shallow and louis’ steady voice of, _steady… steady…_ , when he was being attacked by knife-wielding thugs in _gta_ and all he wanted to do was shoot aimlessly in panic but louis kept telling him to keep calm.

he pulls the trigger when malfoy’s shoulder appears and the game is over: harry wins.

“bloody hell!” malfoy curses. “i didn’t even see you.”

harry cannot help the smile on his face from widening. “one more and i choose lunch.”

 the next three laser tag games are won by fu (the first time), trisha and then zayn. it is down to the wire: harry, trisha and zayn have won two games and only one of them needs to win the tenth game and they are declared the winner. however, in the tenth game malfoy wins and high-fives trisha upon her exit from the maze next to a spluttering zayn. this does not deter zayn as he is motivated, now more than ever. in the eleventh game it is zayn, malfoy and fu left in the maze, the last one to have exited being harry, while the first is sophia who was shot by trisha the moment the music started playing.

harry lets his body fall on the seat facing the entrance of the maze, breathing in sharply through his mouth, trying to catch his breath. “i hope either malfoy or zayn win, i can’t go in there again, i’m too tired.”

“how can you?” questions trisha, her eyes fixed on the exit. “i have so much adrenaline i can’t even stand still.”

“between draco and zayn who do you think will win?” asks sophia, her face red from the adrenaline and heat.

“malfoy definitely,” smiles trisha. to trisha’s dismay, zayn wins and he wins the lunch orders for everyone, making sure he taunts trisha for it. zayn is escorted by one of the organizers of the laser tag industries to the kitchen where he makes food orders for everyone. the rest, escorted by malfoy with trisha by his left-hand side, make their way to where the tables have been set up.

for lunch, which is set up behind the laser tag industries, there is a large, circular table in the middle of lush green grass with six white, wooden chairs. taking their seats, harry notes the champagne bucket in the middle, the glasses, expensive cutlery, white linen table cloth and without a doubt, the six butlers standing off at a distance awaiting orders assigned to each one of them.

they fall into mindless chatter as harry pockets out his phone and takes photos of the table, of their surroundings, sending them to louis’, others to the whatsapp group with liam, mckenzie, trisha and louis. on snapchat, he takes more before glancing at trisha’s many, many snap videos, most of them containing malfoy, others of himself smiling and giggling with sophia, and few of her. and one of zayn in the car complaining about avril lavigne.

zayn comes walking towards the table, a large smirk on his face as six tables are wheeled towards the table.

“finally,” sophia grins, “the food is here. i was wondering when you’d be ready.”

“patience sophia,” zayn says dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “the first food is of course for trisha,” – a table is wheeled to her with a large silver bowl covering her food – “whom i, of course, had to start with. you are going to be eating a delicious delicacy of,” the butler opens her bowl, “frog legs sandwich with red hot chilli peppers.”

trisha squawks at her plate, three frog legs in between her slices of basic bread and large chilli peppers around her plate and inside the sandwich. fu is softly smiling across the table, harry and sophia stifling giggles and malfoy amused by it all.

“and for your drink,” zayn goes on, smugly, enjoying himself thoroughly, “you’ll be drinking a glass of this.” the butler places a glass on the table, the contents inside the color of green and yellow. “enjoy!”

“what the fook is this zayn?” shrieks trisha, smelling the contents. “it smells like shit.”

“how do you know what shit smells like?” asks zayn feigning ignorance. harry, sophia burst out laughing, as fu and malfoy’s eyes twinkle in amusement. “is this what you do when you’re not on snapchat? drinking shit?”

“zayn!” she exclaims, maddened . “i will not be eating, or drinking, any of this.”

“rules are rules.”

“i agree with fu,” zayn smiles haughtily. “onto fu. since malfoy told me you’re a vegetarian, you’ll be eating celery with a dash of chilli powder.”

“chilli powder?”

zayn nods at her. “chilli powder. i did say that everyone will be eating chilli, not just trisha. oh and your drink is mango-flavoured water as sophia told me you hate mango-flavoured water.” zayn moves onto the next one, it being malfoy as his specific table is wheeled to him, and a plate placed in front of him covered with a shiny silver bowl.

“the host of this fun day shall be eating like a king,” zayn says a little dramatically. “your drink is first of all espresso, no milk or sugar, half a cup. and your food is, well, squid.”

malfoy stares at his plate, his brows knitted together. “squid?”

“fried squid to be specific with lots, and lots of chilli pepper,” says zayn also looking at the squid with his nose scrunched. “bon appétit!” he walks to sophia next. “dear sophia, my dear, dear sophia, you’ll be having pepsi as a drink,” sophia grunts, “with four snails dipped in chilli powder like the french.”

“ew!”

“where’s your fun spirit?” asks zayn, his eyes twinkling. last is harry who is dreading the plate in front of him. “you’ll be having beer as a drink,” chuckles zayn, “honestly, we all wonder if you’ve even drank beer before.”

“i have! it’s disgusting! tastes like pee.”

“do you and trisha have the same odd tastes in food?” wonders zayn.

“zayn!” trisha hisses.

“no… why am i taking alcohol?” harry voices his thoughts. “everyone has non-alcoholic drinks.”

“i’m having whiskey,” smiles zayn.

“be a sport, styles,” drawls malfoy.

“fine. what’s my food?” the butler opens the silver bowl. “cake? zucchini cake?”

“why can’t i have cake?” moans sophia.

“this is the worst cake in the world. it tastes like crap,” harry protests.

“rules are rules, harry, eat everything on your plate.”

and with that, the lunch table fall into a pattern of clinking plates, spoons and forks, along with chatter that is filled with laughter and warm, warm skies. gazing across the table at malfoy, harry can see that he is genuinely happy, enjoying himself fully. before they started laser tag hangout, he had this sort of tension on his face and shoulders but now it is gone. following his gaze, he is often looking at zayn as if wondering if zayn is enjoying himself. passing the salt to sophia, he notices that malfoy is not looking at anyone, not even chatterbox trisha, but at zayn, his gaze fixed and focused.

his observations are confirmed when after his horrible lunch, including trisha’s, sophia’s and malfoy’s, they are heading to the malfoy’s man-made canal and there is a white, pristine yatch swaying in the green waters. from far the yatch is big enough to host 40 people, 55 at most, but with one hand on his shoulder he is informed that it cannot host more than five people.

“you understand right?” malfoy says, his voice chilling to the bone. harry stares into malfoy’s distant grey eyes, his pointed nose, pursed lips and clenched jaw. “you understand that i can’t let you on the boat because having six people will capsize it. and besides, we don’t want the star of the show on the yatch, stealing the spotlight.” he pauses. “trisha loves me too much.”

harry suppresses an eye roll. beyond draco’s shoulder, he can see the rest laughing their way to the yatch, zayn mocking something about trisha, sophia locking hands with fu, and… for the billionth time in his life he has never felt left out. well, this time it is different. in the  back of his mind he thinks malfoy sees him as a threat to his friendship with zayn. however, he realizes the purpose for this hangout: malfoy wanted him to ask what he wanted, not what harry thought malfoy wanted. malfoy wanted to pull the strings, and since he knew that he could not get to zayn on his own, using harry for his own gain, he did.

if harry had just driven zayn to the venue, dropped him and driven off, it would not have made a difference to malfoy. as long as zayn is there. and this is what malfoy is explaining to him.

“i understand, no room for a sixth person,” he says, biting down on his mild feeling on seclusion crawling in his heart, and longingly stares at the yatch that can evidentially fit more than five people.

“glad you understand,” he says, his voice flat.

dragging his feet back, he settles himself on one of the many blue large couches, stretching his legs comfortably. he takes out his phone, going to his playlist and choosing which one of beethoven’s classics to listen to. he settles peacefully on the couch, his eyes lulling to sleep and his throat humming along to beethoven’s piano concert _rondo_.

 

 **=     =     =     =**  


“harry.”

harry turns on his heels to find fu walking rapidly to him. he stops his long walk to the science block for his higher level chemistry class.

“hi fu,” he greets her. “you alright?” he asks after seeing her face slightly pink but otherwise her poise is calm, as it always is.

“of course. just came from the drama block.”

harry nods sympathetically. “it’s pretty far isn’t?”

“and now i have chemistry.”

they both fall into their steps, heading to the science block. harry tries his best to ignore the curious looks from the students giving him from walking with fu. except liam, all those who can place a ban cannot lift it unless authorized by the one who placed the ban. he never gets involved with the banning of students terming it ridiculous so he tries not to get involved. yesterday, liam lifted the ban on harry and louis, yet walking with fu, it still feels as if the ban is in place. however, he is still grateful to liam because the stress of being malfoy’s friend, setting up an appointment to get his hiv/aids test, and coming to terms with the fact that after graduation he will be cut off and on his own, he cannot deal with the stress of a _ban_.

“something on your mind?”

harry blinks out of his thoughts. “nope. nothing much.”

“draco?”

harry tenses. “not exactly.” he thinks he hears fu sigh but she is always quiet and stealth he thinks he has imagined it. “why do you ask?”

“because you seem to be in a trance ever since thursday.” it is tuesday today. “why weren’t you on the yatch with us?”

“didn’t draco tell you?” he asks curiously.

“he did but i feel as if he was lying about it.” harry turns his head, lifting an eyebrow in question. she purses her lips as if debating whether to defy draco’s trust or help harry in his quest for friendship. “did sophia tell you about draco being snow?”

“yeah, he did. what does that have to do with him not letting me join all of you on the stupid yatch?” he says, not meaning to sound harsh. fu, however, does not seem bothered by it. he opens the door for her for the science block, letting her walk through first then letting the door close behind him. again with the stares, he ignores them.

“what did she say exactly?”

harry pouts, trying to remember what sophia had told him. “she said that malfoy is like snow. he’s cold to begin with but you miss it when he’s not there. and if you hold the snow long enough in your hand, it melts.”

“do you think he has melted?”

“no.”

“have you given up being his friend?”

“no.”

“good.”

he turns to her, still walking towards his class. “what does ‘good’ mean?” fu gives him a long sideways glance. he suddenly finds himself talking, not filter of his words. “he’s a frustrating git is what he is. i know sophia said that malfoy is snow, and eventually he’ll melt, but what the actual hell? he is harder to please than a cobra snake. it’s been nearly three weeks since i started being friends and then when finally, finally, we get to hangout turns out he only wanted zayn there. not me. he was using me.”

“aren’t you?”

“no!” he blurts out. he bites his tongue. his mind flashes back to that time in the it room with louis hacking at the toarechosen website to see a possible way for his renewal membership in the club. “i’m not,” he adds for good measure.

“draco is stubborn, that’s what you need to remember.”

“stubborn?” he questions her but she slips into her class like air and he is left blinking in her absence. he stomps off to _his_ class. he plops down on his seat next to zolo, taking out his books and other essentials he will need for class.

“long morning?” zolo asks, eyeing harry straightening his pens.

“hey zolo,” he smiles at her. “something like that. you?”

“i had a pleasant morning,” she says, her fingers lingering above harry’s arm. “but nothing that will make me want to straighten pens.”

harry chuckles despite himself. “yeah, well, some say i have a touch of ocd but really, i just like things _neat_.”

“i love your fashion sense,” she says, her fingers curling on harry’s arm. “your button-ups are always in style, in fashion. very authentic too.”

harry smiles in the compliment. “thanks. most people don’t understand that a button-up is a fashion statement but at least you do.”

“there’s this fading blue button-up that came yesterday at guess and it would mean a lot me if you came and help me decide which ones to keep. i have several on hold but i feel like they aren’t enough.”

harry chuckles. “i know how you feel. i usually have half the shop on hold from the pieces i saw online, which includes the pieces from guess.”

“you have some on hold?” she asks. “please don’t tell me it is some of the ones i have on hold.”

“i surely hope not or else i’ll have to be extra nice to the shopkeepers,” harry says, dropping his voice to a husk.

zolo’s glance falters looking elsewhere but at harry’s eyes, lips, and his open chest with his swallow tattoos poking through. “so what do you say?” she asks, her voice quiet.

“i’d love to come but i’ve got yoga after school with my k.”

“tomorrow?”

“painter and artist provocateur club, though i don’t know why it is called that.”

she laughs. “with lockhart?”

“he prefers painter lockhart the great,” he says, mocking his over-the-top american accent. she laughs louder, as her hand rests above harry’s on the table.  “he never forgets to remind us that he is related to da vinci. oh what i wouldn’t do to see him and da vinci actually meet in real life.”

“that’d be the day,” she giggles, her face leaning near harry.

“you should honestly meet him!”

“maybe i will,” she chuckles. harry for the first time is aware how close zolo is, where her hand is, and her brown cleavage more prominent than when he sat down near her. or the days when they both are in class…

he coughs. removing his arm from her grasp, he asks, “what did you do over the weekend?” she notices the loss because she inches even closer.

“avoided liam.”

“liam? why?”

“he’s annoying.”

“annoying how?”

“he thinks he’s better than niall when he isn’t. i like my men ambitious,” she says her voice charming and her eyes burning. “men who know what they want,” her gaze drops to harry’s lips then to his open chest from unbuttoning his shirt, “men who are strong.”

“my boyfriend thinks so.”

her arms flinch from harry as if his body is suddenly on fire. “i-i didn’t know. i thought… i thought—you didn’t say anything.”

“i thought you honestly knew,” says harry feeling her embarrassment.

“no. no, i didn’t or else i wouldn’t have come onto you,” she says, flustered.

“sorry about that.”

“who is he?” she asks.

“louis.”

“tomlinson?” she asks. if harry is being honest she is the first person to not say his last name as if it tastes like bitter lemon on their tongue. “he’s your boyfriend?”

“yeah. why?”

“i thought he was dating nick.”

“nick grimshaw?” she nods. “why?”

“they seem better together.” she adds quickly, “no offense.” harry shakes his head in response. “i… i’m still in shock though. what’s he like?”

harry beams at her. he tells her all about his boyfriend as much as he can until the teacher walks into class in a foul mood. a double lesson of frustration, randomly getting picked on to answer question, being reminded that higher level chemistry is not like ordinary chemistry and that there shall be essays in this class. _essays_. after the class, three-quarters of the class is thinking of dropping down to ordinary chemistry.

“i am definitely dropping this class,” zolo mumbles walking down the stairs of the science block. “and honestly, when he said our assignment should be in essay form i thought i was going to faint right there and then.”

“i did,” groans harry. “thrice in my head.”

“are you dropping it?”

“i’ll give the class a week, try out the essay, and if it is all bad, i’ll drop to ordinary, too,” harry says already making up his mind. “i’m heading for lunch, are you?”

“sure let’s go there together,” zolo smiles at him.

they make their way towards the cafeteria. inside, the cafeteria turn their heads towards the entrance as zolo and harry make their way through. taylor and niall frown, cathy looks longingly at harry hoping for their good ol’ times, sophia wants to ring her hands around zolo’s neck, most girls and boys are wondering if harry is now single and the rest? waiting for the day larry call it quits.

harry’s eyes brighten up spotting louis leaning against the wall casually talking to… whoever that is. he ignores whoever-that-is in his sight and focuses on louis’ dark green t-shirt that shows off his _it is what it is_ chest tattoo perfectly.

he takes the seat near him, pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s soft lips. it is a slow kiss, nothing rushed, and it is their first kiss of the day, so excuse harry is he kisses him for what seems like ages to the rest of the table.

“missed you,” he hums, his lips brushing on louis’.

“missed you this morning,” louis says.

harry beams, leaning back to study louis’ gorgeous face. his eyes are brimming, his nose a cute buttony one, but most of all, his smile, covered by his teeth chewing his bottom lip. pressing his thumb to louis chin, he parts louis’ lips and kisses his bottom lip, his fingers curling below louis’ chin.

“oi!” liam calls out. “we’re eating here.”

louis laughs into the kiss, leaning away from harry but harry’s quick hand to the back of his head, his fingers deep in louis’ hair, pressing his lips harder to his. with his other hand, he shows liam the middle finger.

“that’s what you get liam!” trisha laughs.

“i’m eating soup, i’d like to keep it down,” grunts liam. this stops larry stylinson kiss.

“why are you eating soup?” questions harry, his fingers till in louis’ hair.

“do people eat or drink soup?” louis asks to no one in particular.

“not every day they serve chicken soup in the cafeteria,” grins liam.

“oh yeah, they had chicken salad before i forget,” says louis, pushing his tray of food to harry. on the tray is harry’s chicken salad, watermelon yoghurt, two bottles of water (one for later, and the other harry will finish it before lunch is over), and two bananas. “they didn’t have vanilla yoghurt.”

“doesn’t matter,” harry smiles against louis’ subtle, where he presses a kiss. “thanks for the chicken salad. hope it wasn’t too much.”

louis shakes his head, harry’s lips brushing his jawline. “of course not, my butterfly.”

“did you hear?” inquires trisha to their lunch group.

liam groans. “we are not listening to how you tramped taylor on the football field, or how you convinced niall to buy you that audi you’ve been dreaming of, or even how—”

“someone’s jealous,” mckenzie snickers into her water. larry stylinson giggle and liam rolls his eyes. “be careful trish, liam’s going to steal you away from niall.”

“yuck!”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” asks liam, utterly offended.  “i could seduce you better than niall ever could. all niall relies on is material things but i go for something deeper.”

“deeper like what, li?” asks louis, smirking.

“deeper… deeper than material things… deeper than you know…,” he jumbles over his words, getting flustered by the minute. mckenzie is muffling her giggles behind her hand and trisha is laughing. harry is smiling into his salad while louis is laughing loudly. “you know what i mean lou!”

“i do not,” louis shakes his head, laughter rippling through his body. “whatever you said sounds sexual which sounds nothing different from what niall does.”

“agreed,” giggles trisha. “anyway, i was asking if you’ve heard about niall? words going round that he is the one who lit that supermarket on fire and then he was meant to go and live with his father in ireland?

“so?” liam deadpans.

trisha is not affected. “but that’s not the half of it. ever since then, he has been handing out bans to anyone and everyone and rumor has it that he and taylor are not talking at all. they’re fighting!”

“fighting over what?” asks mckenzie.

“draco malfoy,” she whispers as if saying his name should not be said in public.

“over what?”

“his banishment of course,” trisha says. “rumor has it that taylor somehow cannot put a ban on malfoy but lets niall do it for her. however, in today’s higher level physics, taylor and draco malfoy got into some nasty fight that honestly none of us know how it started, we just know it did and it took nearly the entire lesson!”

“why?” asks louis.

“that idiot of a teacher has a crush on taylor so he let taylor continue insulting malfoy.”

“serves him right!” louis notices the nasty glare harry sends to liam but it goes unnoticed to the rest of the group. “he honestly deserves everything he is getting right now. after two years of his terror and torture, i’ll be surprise if nobody bans him from the country, or kill him.”

“why can’t we? why can’t we ban him again?” asks mckenzie.

“can’t.”

“why not?” louis asks liam.

“i don’t know what he’s done, or who he is bribing or manipulating but whoever it is they cannot ban the malfoy family again… not even daddy taylor.”

“wow!” says trisha, casting her glance at everyone. “if daddy taylor cannot ban the malfoys then we’re all doomed to whatever he is planning.”

“pretty much,” grunts mckenzie.

“i have to go,” says harry abruptly.

“you okay?” asks louis tentatively. he has his grip on harry’s arm, his eyes searching frantically at harry.

harry nods quickly, already on his feet. “yeah.” he kisses his lips. “i’m good. meet you in mrs maths’ class?” he asks and kisses louis before he can reply and he is on his heels, heading out of the cafeteria.

“odd,” hums trisha.

 

 

“malfoy!” harry barks, walking several steps behind malfoy, fu and sophia. “malfoy!”

fu is the first to turn, sophia, too, with a large smile on her face then malfoy turning slowly, but less gracefully than fu.

“hi harry!” sophia greets happily. her smiles wanes when she sees the cold look on harry’s face. “are you alright?”

“malfoy, what the actual fook?” he cries, his voice on edge.

“what?” he asks him, his entire being calm and cool, unaffected by harry’s temper.

“what do you mean ‘what?’” harry barks. “i’ve been trying to be your friend for weeks now and then i see you getting chummy chummy with zayn, with everyone but me? i did everything, absolutely everything, to be your friend but you can’t even acknowledge me.”

malfoy blinks. “not used to it, are we?”

“what does that mean?”

“you’re always in the limelight and when you don’t have everyone falling at your feet, it bothers you,” he pauses, smirking at harry, “pity.”

“what are you talking about? all i ever wanted was to be your friend, malfoy. that’s it! why is it so difficult?”

“because we’ll never be friends,” says malfoy, his voice ice cold.

harry is taken aback. he blinks several times, wondering if he heard correctly. his gaze falls on sophia’s frowning face and fu’s, as always, calm one, showing nothing. “why?” he finally asks.

“because you cannot look at me without remembering what i did to your mother,” he says, his eyes burning into harry. “every time you try and talk to me, _are_ around me, i see it in your eyes, i see it behind your eyes with the memories of two years ago flashing through your eyes like a horrible film. you’re just lying to yourself if you think you can forget that. no one else did, so why should you?”

“because i’ve made the effort to be your friend,” harry says pointedly. “i’ve gotten out of my comfort zone and extended my friendship, damned be everyone else.”

“then why did you hack into the website? why did you try to find if your membership is still there?”

harry’s throat dries. how did malfoy know that? how did malfoy know that he hacked into the toarechosen website? no one is supposed to know… that is how good he is!

“ho-how did you know?”

“doesn’t matter how i know,” he spits. “you still don’t trust me, you doubt me, you’re always tiptoeing around me as if i’ll hurt you when i won’t. i mean, do you think i will?”

“no.”

“your grandmother thought my coming was going to destroy your family that’s why she wanted you to be taylor’s escort so as to increase their power against my arrival, strength in numbers and all, i suppose.”

“but i didn’t!”

“because you were an idiot in taking tomlin—”

“no!” harry growls. sophia winces, while fu’s eyes grow wild while malfoy remains calm. “you don’t get to bring louis into this. he is not part of it. taking my boyfriend to the debutant ball is the best decision i ever made. screw my grandmother, my mother, my father, my friends, screw everyone and their worries of your coming, i wanted to take louis because _i_ wanted to not what or how it affected _you_ … i don’t plan my life according to yours draco lucius malfoy.”

“why so pissy when it comes to tomlinson?”

“why are you not my friend?” he questioned back.

“i told you, you keep bringing my past up.”

“me?” asks harry, his voice rising. “i keep bringing up the past? what about you when you keep reminding me what your father did to my mother? what your family did to my mother’s body by hiring some fake doctor, making me lose a kidney along with my sister, and then if that wasn’t enough, you destroyed one of my father’s companies all in the name of being a member of toarechosen? yeah, you’re right, i should not even be talking to you but i am. the same fooking way zayn is.”

this gets a reaction out of both fu and malfoy who both smile. odd, he fleetingly thinks but malfoy is slowly walking to him until he can see the blue outline of his defining grey eyes. harry swallows, malfoy’s eyes are tense, cold, sending shivers down his spine.

“draco… he has a point,” sophia speaks behind malfoy but harry is too frozen in his spot to tear his eyes off him. “you gave zayn a second chance, you proved yourself, your worth, and so has harry, all this time. and he’s the one who got zayn to the laser tag hangout for you.”

“when you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

harry faintly smiles at fu’s one-liner and malfoy’s eyes half close then open up to his eyes. “why were you on the website?”

“i wanted to see if i can get in,” answers harry honestly.

“surely you must have known that you were still a member?”

harry lightly shakes his head. “i thought it was over when i handed my membership to you… thought it left me the moment i gave it to you.” malfoy’s stare lingers, and harry shifts uncomfortably on his feet. “i’m trying to make my father pay attention to me, to get him to notice me and i thought if i can find a way back into the club, he’ll finally acknowledge me as his son.”

“because dating tomlinson,” harry glowers at him despite the uneasiness with malfoy’s closeness , “a magazine spread, being removed from the board—”

“draco!” sophia scolds. “like he doesn’t hear it every day.”

“i’m sure horan does that every day,” malfoy smirks way too self-contentedly for harry’s liking.  

then malfoy suddenly smiles, stepping back from him, all his teeth showing and eyes glittering in the september sun. harry blinks, confused at malfoy’s sudden mood change from frosty to sunny.

“fu is right i suppose,” he says and harry takes a breath, “we can be friends.” harry blinks. “don’t be so surprised styles, i am capable of friendship.”

“draco is not malfoy.”

“i’m malfoy to you,” his smile vanishes as soon as it appeared, grinding his teeth saying that, “and it will _always_ be malfoy. those who call me draco have proved their friendship, you haven’t.”

now was not the time to ask what sophia and fu did to get to the draco level, he was friends with malfoy, the stubborn git. “i’ll take what i can get.”

“alright,” he says, his smile re-appearing on his lips.

harry’s muscles relax, his shoulders slump and he exhales through his lips. “thank fook.”

“thank fu for that. she’s the one who’s been vouching for you. she said something something hunger being something we have in common blah blah blah.”

“hunger?” questions harry. but malfoy is already walking away from him, heading to the english & literature block, sophia following not before waving at harry, beaming at him. “what does that mean?” he asks fu.

“hunger?”

from the corner of his eye, he can see fu taking small steps gracefully. her shoulders are drawn back, her head pulled up as if by an invisible string that she looks as if she is walking on air. such grace, such poise it almost reminds him of his sister, before she started dating niall. he turns his head to look forward, most students who have english now heading to the english & literature block same as them.

“yeah. how does hunger have a commonality between me and malfoy?”

“you’ve just gotten to know draco, harry. you will soon find out, all this about him but for now you’ve gotten his attention.”

“attention?” grunts harry. “just his attention? that means nothing. i want friendship.”

“attention brings time, brings a chance for friendship to blossom, a chance for the snow to melt.”

 harry turns his head so fast he almost falls at his feet. sophia’s words echo in his mind immediately:

_“draco is like snow. it’s cold, cruel, egoistical even, to begin with, but it’s somehow beautiful and you miss it when it’s not there. and if you hold the snow in your hands close enough, long enough, it changes. it melts.”_

he clears his throat. “what happens now then? he barely talks to me, barely hangs out with me because he’s always with you and sophia, no offense,” fu shakes her head, a small smile on her lips, “i barely see him in extra-curricular activities, for lunch he disappears, and in class he likes to sit alone….”

“he gave you his attention, give him yours.”

he briefly stares at her, his parting to say something but she leaves him standing before mrs maths’ open class as her feet carry her up the stairs to her class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what even is that last gif? i honestly have never thought about zarry - friendship or romance - zarry just does nothing for me but uncle google has been opening my eyes [;
> 
> hope you enjoyed this ♦


	68. 0.67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and louis become one.

** **

 

 

> **l** **isten to me, and listen well, taylor. you have no part in my life anymore.**

        mrs lewandowski, the german teacher, is not yet in class which, unfortunately to louis, gets trisha and zayn teasing louis’ love life. yes, they have been dating for months, and because harry and trisha occasionally go for spa treatments and everyone knows that harry cannot keep his mouth shut under thai women smearing hot oil on his back, he spilled on their sex life.

“it’s literally been two decades since you two started dating!” trisha giggles, zayn joining in. “honestly, you two sometimes act like an old couple i’d think you’re forty.”

“ninety is more like it!” zayn cackles.

louis rolls his eyes, praying that mrs lewandowski enters class any second now. zayn and trisha calm down from their high.

“but seriously, we’re worried that you two haven’t had sex yet,” zayn says, on a serious note, leaning in so as not to speak too loudly.

“yeah, loulou. i mean, you are known for making people writhing and begging for it while harry, well, harry’s a sex maniac.”

“oi!” louis chides.

“both of the best sexual people are not having sex with each other means that something is wrong,” continues trisha and louis can see zayn nodding from the corner of his eye.

“sex isn’t everything in a relationship,” louis mumbles weakly.

“handjobs, blowjobs, rimming, almost sex, frottage, masturbation—”

“—enough! —”

“—aren’t going to last long,” trisha finishes ignoring louis’ interjection. “you two need to have sex.”

“asshole sex,” grins zayn and louis hides his blushing face behind a german-english dictionary.

“sexy butt stuff,” trisha wriggles her eyebrows suggestively.  louis dies with mortification as the two of them burst into laughter.

“you know in the spa harry sounds like he is moaning and to be honest, it’s so embarrassing.”

“he moans?” asks louis horrified.

“that’s so awkward,” laughs zayn.

“it is because those thai people always look at me funny as _i’m_ the one dating harry,” says trisha, shuddering at remembering the thai woman’s face. “you two need to have sex.”

“when did my sex life become subject of discussion.”

“is it cause the sex without actual sex isn’t good?” asks zayn, whispering.

“maybe it’s a package issue,” trisha whispers loudly to zayn. “maybe harry’s dick is tiny.”

“is not!”

“i say it’s tiny,” zayn nods to trisha in mock seriousness.

“or maybe it’s louis’,” trisha giggles.

“i am not!” louis roars. “i’m well-endowed i’ll have you now.”

zayn grimaces. “and i didn’t need to know that.”

just then olivia walks by.  zayn and trisha immediately laugh, zayn bowing his head to the table as trisha shuts her eyes, the laughter too much for them. louis simply rolls his eyes, sinking back into the chair. he prays that olivia did not hear the end of their conversation because this was embarrassing enough to talk to trisha _and_ zayn.

sure, the issue of sex between him and harry has been the elephant in the room, neither of them wishing to speak openly about it. louis has his reasons for asking harry to get his hiv test and harry has his reasons not to, but harry, finally, after what felt like ages, did get his test.

“dear mr styles,” louis had read the letter as soon as he ripped off the light blue envelope that harry handed him with his results. “we are pleased to inform… the status of your hiv have come back… is negative… the tests… good luck on your… sexual endeavours?” gawks louis, color spreading to his ears. he looked up at harry. “they know?”

“they have to write that for formality,” harry had told him, flipping his hand offhandedly. “now… about us….”

“yes! yes, yes, yes,” louis had murmured, barely containing moan. their lips clashed together, this time, with intensity, with novelty, with extra spark because it was as if the chains that were tying them both had been broken. harry grabbed louis’ hips, pushing him against the school wall on the empty corridor, and bit on the salty, lemon skin on louis’ neck and shoulder, his lips nibbling, sucking as much as he can. louis bit down on his bottom lip hushing down a moan, his head lolling to the side as harry left a large love bite on his neck.

“n-n-not… not here,” louis had breathed, his hands spread out on harry’s patterned shirt. “not here!”

“i don’t care,” harry said, his lips on louis’ skin still.

“we’re in the middle of a the school corridor i don’t think—” the bell had rang then and louis gently pushed harry off him. “school.”

“right,” harry had said, a little breathless, his lips smacking red. “right. tonight. you and me.”

“fook yes!”

**=     =     =     =**

** **

“holy shit!” louis mumbles, mesmerized by the state of harry’s room.

the lights have been dimmed to near darkness. the carpet floor is filled with sky blue petals, the walls have new wallpaper—an 1800s design, if louis is not mistaken. there are a gazillion candles, all lighting different parts of the room making it more spacious than it already is with a soft smell of magnolia and vanilla wafting in the air. at the foot of the bed are red roses, the stems of those roses having been cut off, and just the rose parts are lined around the bed in a perfect square. the bed, oh gosh the bed,  is ready made, on top there is a bucket with champagne and two glasses…

“i-it’s too little, too late i know… it was-was  last minute and i didn’t know where i could get exquisite, expensive champagne on short notice…” harry blabbers but louis is in awe.

“harry.”

“—but sorry i didn’t get better champagne but i will make it up to you—”

“ _harry_.”

“—next time, i promise. i don’t know why i didn-didn’t pick _wine_. you can’t go wrong with wine, at any event… unless you serve white wine at a cocktail party with a white carp—”

“harry?”

harry stops his mumbling when louis clutches his wrist tight enough to stop him from his chattering. “yes?”

“wh-where did you get blue petals?” he asks. he bends down, picking a handful of the petals in his hands and turns to harry holding them up to his face. “they’re perfect.”

“the petals? you’re impressed by the _petals_?” harry questions in disbelief.

“oh yeah, it’s all great but the petals take the cake! they’re too wonderful!” he throws them on harry, some landing on his head, shoulders and by his feet. “you’re flamboyant is what you are.”

“you love my flamboyancy.”

“i love your flamboyancy.”

and with that, harry launches himself at his boyfriend. he smashes their lips together, pushing his leg in between louis’ skin tight jeans and rubbing on his thigh. he is already half-hard. louis moans into his mouth and harry sticks his tongue down his hot throat. louis runs his hands up and down harry’s shirt and then untucks it from his skinny jeans, his hands desperate to feel hot skin underneath his palms. hot, sweaty skin. walking backwards to the bed, both their shirts are off, louis fumbling with his zipper and harry fumbling with his skinny jeans.

“ugh,” he groans. he is trying to get out of his skinny jeans but it is proving difficult. “this fooking jeans. not now! not now, please.”

“honestly, why wear skinny jeans when you can barely get them off?”

“i want to get you off,” harry smirks, half-moaning when louis thigh rubs on his aching cock.

“with those jeans on, i don’t think so.”

harry rushes to pull his jeans past his knees but stumbles and falls to the sea of sky blue petals and red roses. “ugh! i’m wearing baggy clothes from now on. swear on it.”

“you said baggy clothes aren’t clothes,” louis snickers, watching his boyfriend swirling on the floor like a snake prying his jeans off his ankles.

“they’re the most disgusting thing on earth!” harry is on his feet, jeans free and briefs too. “finally. where were we?”

“getting off…”

harry’s eyes widen, his pupils as black as his skinny jeans. their lips meet again, in a heat-filled rush. louis hovers above harry then noses harry’s jaw, leaving a trail of wet kisses, down his neck, as harry’s pulse thundering against his red lips. he bites on harry’s salty, vaguely mango-scented skin, then kisses the soft spot with his flaming lips.

“l-louis,” harry moans, his hands running up and down louis’ back. “i-i’m… i… i want you. now.”

“you have me,” louis grunts into his neck. “you’ll always have me.”

harry stares in awe at him. he opens his mouth, then closes it. “i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

“show me,” louis’ voice moans into harry’s open wet mouth.

harry’s fingers travel down louis’ back, the pad of his finger damp from louis’ thin sheath of sweat on his lower back. teeth on teeth, tongue on tongue, harry’s wet finger ghost between louis’ ass. louis slides his chest up harry’s, a low deep throat at the back of harry’s neck makes its way to a gasping breath, at the friction of their hard cocks rubbing on each other.

louis bites down on harry’s lip, enough to bleed when harry’s finger enters him. he tugs harry’s lip as his boyfriend lightly prods his finger all the way inside him. 

“you okay?” harry asks, voice of concern. the tone of concern goes straight to louis’ cock and he nods up at his boyfriend.

as harry begins parting his fingers inside louis, he bites into harry’s skin, muffling his moans and the discomfort of it.

louis mumbles something that harry does not hear, too lost in lust, love, and sweat. or because harry’s mother opens the door so suddenly and stares at louis ass with his son’s fingers inside his boyfriend.

she only says, “dinner in five,” and shuts the door behind her. harry curses multiple times under his breath, the room suddenly cold despite the candles, his head falling back on the bed.

“well… i think i’m off sex forever,” grumbles louis, getting off harry and sitting up. he turns to harry laying on his back on the bed, and immediately turns red and breathless. harry has the two fingers deep in his mouth, his gaze unwavering from his boyfriend, and his cheeks hollow, showing off his dimples, as he sucks on them noisily.

“i’ll never be off you,” smirks harry after his little show and seeing louis getting hard, again.

“your mom sure kills a mood,” he grumbles again, this time getting off the bed and slipping into his briefs, harry doing the same thing.

all dressed, harry says, “don’t worry. we’re not done.”

“we better not!”

 

the second time comes sooner than the two boys could hope for: the next day after school.

harry has enough of kissing louis, enough of lapping his tongue up and down his chest, hard nipples and belly button in the football locker rooms, he wants to _feel_ louis inside him. the temperature rises between them, hot and hard skin pressing up against each other.

“if i didn’t want you this bad, i would be appalled by _where_ we’re having sex,” harry mutters, slipping out of his not-so-tight skinny jeans.

“we have 20 minutes before the team comes back,” louis says, shimming his black jeans off. it is as if it is a race of who can get undressed quicker. shirts are already off, including bottoms, and shoes are flung mercilessly and hitting the lockers with a thud.

their lips crush again. louis breathing hard through his nose as he jumps, wrapping his bare legs around harry’s waist and his back pushed against the stone wall. his fingers tug on harry’s chocolate hair, both his hands burning harry’s scalp by scratching it, his teeth grinding to harry’s.

“now!”

harry obliges, his hands, fingers, touching louis at the right spots on his shoulders, his long, long back, his hips and of course, groping his ass that he has come to admire and love.

“you’re hot hot hot!”

heat sears through louis at the breathless warm compliment on his chest from harry’s lips nibbling at his skin. harry’s wet fingers are already in louis, opening him up, louis coming undone for harry before his very eyes. his hard cock is leaking, his cream faint on his stomach, his ears flaming from harry’s gruff moans.

“ready,” he puffs, his fingers tangled in harry’s hair.

harry slowly pushes his cock inside louis. louis’ winces, taking a large gulp of air as harry fills him up. the feeling of harry, the feeling of _him_ is so seductive, so hot, so attractive his fingers dig into harry’s shoulders.

“so big,” he slurs, the back of his head against the stone wall, when harry is completely inside of him.

“angel,” harry’s barely says make him open his eyes and gaze at harry. for the first time, they are on the same eye-level, and he honestly wonders if his boyfriend as superhuman strength. he lets himself adjust to him, pulling his boyfriend’s red lips with his fingers messed in harry’s hair and harry takes that as his cue to plummet into him.

“again!” he encourages. the wall scratches his back with harry smashing into him, harry’s hot breath on his neck and he swears he will not last long, not like this, not the way harry is fooking him up the wall.

harry’s fingers poke into the back of louis thigh, holding him steady against the wall, as louis slides down on until harry’s cock. he shuts his eyes, wanting to pause this moment forever, to photograph it and keep it safe in his heart. but harry is big, oh so big, so strong, so _harry_.

his fingers find purchase to the locker to his left, holding onto the top for dear life as harry

“you’re so good for me,” grunts harry. “so tight, so beautiful.”

louis’ eyes shut tight, his mouth wide open and lips wet from harry having kissed him roughly. “you feel so good!”

harry’s chest presses to his own followed by a cold sensation blows on the back of his thigh as he removes his hand, louis’ ankles tightening around harry, and parts louis’ lips. he kisses him once.

“so close,” harry murmurs hotly.

the locker room door open, several of the football team members standing by stopping their loud chatter when their eyes widen at the butt naked boyfriends fooking against the wall. harry and louis freeze on the spot, and harry is the first to look away, feeling his body dying from the same and embarrassment.

“shit!” harry curses and louis thinks that it the most understated curse word in history.

“don’t let us interrupt,” patel chortles as others whistle in their direction.

“go away, patel!” louis shouts.

“who doesn’t love a show?” cheers one of louis’ football teammates. several applauses and cheers are heard from his teammates.

“patel!” louis chides

“alright, alright, we’ll leave,” patel snickers, locking the door to protests from the other team members.

“i thought you locked the door?” questions harry, still holding louis up.

“i… i did,” says louis, raking his brain for the specific moment when he had locked the door with a key. “or thought i did….” harry drops his head on louis’ shoulder. “oops.”

and just like that the boys hit flat line for the second time.

 

**=     =     =     =**

 

it is three days later after the bathroom incident, and the whole school, including some staff and the locker room janitor, who know about what happened in the football locker room. patel, being on the front line in recalling the event, narrates to all who listen (which, well, is everyone) to exactly how it had happened, louis’ long neck stretched about to cum, harry’s butt looking as soft as marshmallows and  as white as snow, louis panting harry’s name several times in a row, harry’s bulging biceps from holding louis against the wall… and there even is a photo that had gone round (to which louis wonders when (and who) had had the time to take the picture because the door had not been opened for more than 10 seconds).

well, the photo is blurry therefore one cannot see anything much apart from two bodies huddled together with the afternoon sun leaking through the tiny windows in the locker rooms. but _still_.

there have been lots of teasing and bantering to the both of them, most of them at harry because well, who would not love a piece of harry? if harry is being honest, he has been receiving far more smiles, winks, lip-licking aimed his way, and a lot _, a lot_ , of arm touching perhaps to confirm patel’s description of his strong, chiselled muscles.

“trouble in paradise?” taylor asks, zapping him out of his stance. they are in ordinary geography class waiting for their teacher who is late.  while the super rich kids do take higher level classes for all the subjects, subjects such as geography and history are considered small and impractical, therefore no need to take it at an advanced level. 

“go away, taylor,” he says, clearing his throat. “no mood for your talks.”

“aww, harry,” taylor beams, her voice high pitched as always, “we’re past that, aren’t we?”

“no, we’re not. you and i have nothing between us.”

“of course, we broke up. i get it.”

“do you?” questions harry, dubiously. “we had nothing between us the moment i found out i was a bloody business deal than your boyfriend,” mutters harry, anger rising to his tongue. “and you didn’t tell me for _years_.”

“you’re stuck in the past it’s becoming boring.” taylor sits on the seat next to him, ignoring harry’s glare. he attempts to swing his bag over his shoulder to seat elsewhere but taylor stops him with a hand on his forearm. “i’m not going to _talk_ to you, remind you of why tomlinson is a bad idea, manipulate you… i am beyond that.”

“the day pigs fly.”

taylor rolls her eyes. “don’t be such a puss, harry, i’m completely done with you. i promise.”

harry raises an eyebrow her way. taylor giggles, flipping her blonde ponytail behind her shoulder. “you are always going to be my worst nightmare.”

“dressed like a daydream,” she says with the utmost brilliance, her eyes shining at him. “i remember a time when you loved that.”

“now who’s talking about the past?” 

she changes the subject immediately. “how’s malfoy? i saw you lot went to his laser tag industry to hangout….”

“your point?”

“was just wondering… i don’t want to put a ban on you, again, for that mistake.”

harry narrows his eyes at her. “do what you want.”

“malfoy is not a good p—”

“listen to me,” harry says in a low, cold voice, having heard enough, “and listen well, taylor. what i do with my life is up to me. if i want to shout from the rooftops that louis is mine, i will; if i want to be friends with malfoy, i will; if i want to take anyone else but you for the debutant, i did, and why? you have no part in my life anymore. i mean it, taylor, none at all. threats or manipulation, deceit as well, will do nothing to me, do you hear me clearly, taylor waldorf?”

taylor blinks. in her six years of dating harry, and more years in being friends, harry has never sounded like the arctic waters to her ears. not once. not ever, and it unsettles her deeply.

“yes,” she manages to say, “i hear you.”

“good.” harry drags his chair behind him, picking his bag. “then we’re done.”

taylor stretches out her hand. “we start over?” harry looks down at her open palm for long that she withdraws it slowly.

“did you not hear me? i said we’re done. there’s no starting over, not with us. never with us.”

“you’ve forgiven niall for much worse!”

harry narrows his eyes. “no, i haven’t. i really, really haven’t.”

it is now when taylor is aware of the class looking their way, many heads sending them curious glances, one or two with their phones out recording everything or snapping photos. she clenches her fists, calming her tongue from lashing out at them to mind their own business.

“i meant it when i said i was not going to manipulate you,” she calls out as harry makes his way to the front of the class.

“whatever you say.”

by the last lesson of the day, rumors have gone wild about what had happened in ordinary geography, gossip spreading about taylor’s real power at the school if harry can stun her to silence, if she cannot _convince_ harry bow down to her demands like before then perhaps the school needs a new queen. and king (the title belongs to niall).

“have you heard the rumors?” niall snaps at taylor, decidedly skiving the last lesson of the day. “do you know what they’re saying about the king and queen?”

“it’s all rumors, sweetie,” taylor smiles as if the events of earlier have not affected her. “you don’t believe rumors not started by either you or me, do you?”

“this isn’t the same bloody thing. it’s about power, which harry is slowly gaining thanks to your stupid mouth not shutting him up when he told you that you both are done.”

taylor breathes, a slow smile spreading on her red, glossy lips. “honestly, niall. a little faith will you?” niall sneers. “don’t doubt my faith and power as the current queen.”

“you lost your title as captain of the cheerleading team. you lost harry, completely, that you cannot touch him. speaking of not touching, you and malfoy also cannot touch and mind you, he’s so much worse than harry. he can crush us.”

“maybe harry shouldn’t have saved your irish ass when your mother wanted to send you back to ireland,” she scowls.

“thank goodness harry ended all ties with you—”

“your time is coming soon,” taylor smirks roguishly.  “if you think harry won’t throw you out then you’re mistaken.”

“redemption.”

taylor rolls her eyes. they both sit down in the courtyard stone benches, her arms placed on the stone table. “what do you know about eleanor calder?”

“nothing,” niall snaps, sitting across from her. “who the fook is she?”

“i realize that i made a mistake when i did not _talk_ to harry but the past is the past because the future is bright, niall, so bright our pasts look as if they never existed.”

“what are you on about?”

“eleanor calder is louis’ ex-girlfriend,” she says, a slow smile ghosts her lips and her eyes fixed on niall. “i went to her place last semester and convinced her to leave manchester and come down to london, join this school, and be with us.”

“how does that help us?”

“turns out louis has not been as innocent as we all thought so. louis cheated on eleanor with eleanor’s best friend, max. while i’m sure he has told harry this story, louis has not told him about oli.” niall raises an eyebrow in question. “oli, may his soul rest in peace, used to be louis’ best pal. they were tighter than liam and louis are but one night something went wrong.”

“what went wrong?”

“something so wrong that oli ended up dead.”

niall’s jaw drops to the stone table. “what? what do you mean ‘ended up dead’? did louis kill oli?... doesn’t sound like louis to be honest.”

“eleanor wouldn’t tell me but she hinted that there is a video about the night oli died and—”

“you want to blackmail louis with the video to get to harry?” he interjects, connecting the dots in taylor’s plan. his smile grows and matches that of taylor’s, rotten to the core. “only then will harry come back under your thumb… you’re marvellous, tay!”

“i know,” she beams, winking at niall. “but i don’t have the video yet, so when eleanor comes to this school, in two days, by the way, we will have to convince her to give us the video.”

“pfft! we steal it.”

taylor’s laugh is low. “that sounds even better.”

“can’t wait for friday,” niall smiles, his eyes a certain glimmer that gets taylor’s heart thumping. “finally some fun around here, it was getting boring dealing with larry shit, zalfoy friendship shit… speaking of malfoy, why is harry friends with him? did he forget what malfoy do to his mother?”

“people have terrible memories,” she says nonchalantly. “do you remember what malfoy did to maura, your dear mother?” niall instantly tenses up as if his body has frozen, his eyes wide at taylor. “do you remember her screams? her anguish?”

“not funny.”

“i always loved malfoy’s sense of morbidity, made things… spicy,” she widely smiles, a lost look in her eyes.

“it made him a killer.”

“contrary to that niall, malfoy’s never been a killer. torture more like it. he used to say torture lasts longer than death.”

“starting to think he was right.”

“do you remember the sounds of your mother’s fingers cracking? her shoulder joints being dislocated? do you remember her pain after that? after malfoy left her in your attic, just helplessly watching her when you couldn’t do anything? do you remember the amount of time she spent in the hospital, the long nights repairing every dislocated joint possible, replacing every single fractured bone? and you couldn’t even report it to anyone because the next bone that malfoy would crack would be your mother’s skull? do you remember?”

“how can i ever forget?” he spits angrily, hating to be reminded the pain his mother underwent a couple of years ago because of malfoy sick obsession with torture. “my mother has to go for knee and shoulder replacements every six months.”

“harry has forgotten the pain but you should never. hold it close to your heart because no matter who malfoy says he is, he is still _that_ person,” warns taylor and niall shudders beneath the sun.

**=     =     =     =**

 

louis grips harry’s hips, and slowly eases it into harry. “i hope you fooking locked the door!”

harry mumbles a strangled, “yeah,” adjusting to the feeling inside him. he sucks on louis’ bottom lip as his boyfriend pushes his throbbing cock inside of him, filling him up. harry groans shutting his eyes as his fingers trail from louis’ shoulders down  to his tattooed arms. louis shudders at the feather touch, his tongue lapping across harry’s sensitive nipple, his arms snaking around to harry’s back.

louis looks up at harry, taking all of him in, in his raw, sexual nature he looks breathtaking. harry grabs his face with both hands and pulls him closer to him and kisses him. his tongue invades louis’ mouth, tasting all of him.

barely breathing, harry moans, “move,” into louis’ ear. a burning warmth spreads from his head down to the dimples on his back and to his toes. their noses brush against each other as louis’ grips harry’s hips and moves him. hand rustling in louis’ damp hair on his neck, he moves his hips in a figure eight on louis’ thick cock, swirling around, moving, never stopping.

louis buries his neck in harry’s shoulder. he can taste _harry_ , mixed with salty sweat, vague banana shampoo scent, and he loves it. he bites onto the salty skin, grinding his teeth on the it, then kisses it but bites it harder the second time round. harry grunts loudly into his ear, his fingers digging into his upper back.

“never stop.”

“i won’t.”

harry engages him into an open-mouth kiss as louis bucks up, a ripple of pleasure shooting through harry’s insides. harry moves up and down on louis’ cock, bouncing,  each time his chest sliding with louis, his leaking cock throbbing at the friction.

harry groans loudly, his body stilling. “there. do th-that again.”

bopping up and down on louis’ cock, louis guides him, hands firmly on his sweaty hips. with each down he goes, he goes harder, harder than last time, the tip of louis’ cock plummeting his prostrate—

harry pants louis’ name several times in a row, his head thrown back, mouth wide open, taking in large counts of air.

“come for me,” louis bite on harry’s neck, “i can feel you.”

“wa-want it to la-ast,” harry breathes, his voice hoarse.

lips still on harry’s adam apple, louis rakes his short nails along harry’s sweaty chest, slowly, quickly, then slow again, sensually exploring harry, making him get closer to the edge.

“harry,” he growls, his fingers touching every inch of harry, learning every curve of his body, having him in no other way he has ever had.

harry’s breath hitches in his throat. he pushes louis’ body back down, slamming it against the car rooftop as his own body stills. he screams, orgasm rippling through every fibre of his being, arching his back, and jetting his white cream before him, some on louis’ chest.

seconds later, louis explodes inside of him, the flawless awe of watching harry in his raw form as he fills him up: mouth open, rasping his name multiple times and his fingers curling in on his chest. spent and exhausted, harry collapses on top of louis. they lay there, catching their breathes, harry’s arms stretched in front of him and louis’ palms spread on harry’s sweaty lower back.

“car rooftops is not what i had in mind when we were trying to find somewhere to have sex,” harry chuckles, his nose buried in louis’ neck.

“car sex to a whole new level,” his lips brush below harry’s earlobe.

harry lifts his body off louis, wincing at the stickiness of semen stuck to his chest, and holds himself up. “i love you, angel. love you every day.”

louis holds his gaze before lifting his arms to harry’s head and pulls him down for a kiss. grasping the nape of harry’s neck, he captures harry’s plump lips, with his own soft ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long. time. coming. ha! ♦
> 
> i felt like this chapter was short... than usual but it was a bit of a filler chapter, sort of piecing things together so we can all move on TOGETHER. oh, btw, taylor is going to keep chasing harry - just to tell you that in case if gets boring /=


	69. 0.68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draco opens up to his friends.

> **we all grow up so fast we become stressed out we make a fool of ourselves.**

** **

           “my name is draco lucius malfoy and i am a wizard.”

the two girls stare at their pointed, ice blond friend with blank faces. they are at fu’s red mansion for a small get-together for fu’s father’s arrival. what had been a small party quickly turned to a bigger party with lots and lots of sage and meat that the two friends decided to spend their night in fu’s massive mansion which, if draco is being honest, saw fu’s eyes glitter at the thought of having friends sleeping over.

“you’re a what?” questions sophia, settling herself properly on fu’s low-lying bed. opposite her is fu seated with her legs folded at the knee below her, her palms laying on top of her thighs and her back straight, as always.

“a wizard. i come from a different world, vastly different than your wildest imaginations will ever think of. where i come from there are no cars, no coffee machines, no phones, none of this muggle nonsense. it’s a magical world where everything is pure magic… almost pure, anyway,” he adds with a smirk.

“what?” asks sophia, her face filled with question marks.

“a wizard meaning you practice magic?”

“yes,” draco nods to fu.

“i think we’ll need a bit more than just that!” huffs sophia.

rolling his eyes at her, draco takes a deep breath from his stomach and began his story, his truth.

“from the age of eleven, i attended hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry until i was 17, when i came of age, and that’s when everything went to hell. hogwarts is one of the many schools for witches and wizards, those who can practice magic,” he adds to reduce the number of invisible questions on sophia’s face, “and it was brilliant. that’s where i met harry james potter, the love of my life.”

fu’s eyes twinkle, otherwise the rest of her body remains still and sophia grins widely at him.

“i don’t even remember the first time we met, he probably does,” a small smile forms on his lips, “but next thing i knew is that we were friends and soon we were inseparable. at first, it was dreamlike because i never really had someone to call my own, never had someone look past my arrogance, pettiness, sarcasm, wrath,” he almost whispers, “and still love me but harry did. his friends, notwithstanding the whole school, didn’t like us together, they thought i was corrupting him.”

“why didn’t they want you two to be together?” asks sophia.

“in hogwarts, the school is divided into four houses: slytherin, where i was, hufflepuff, ravenclaw and where my harry was, gryffindor. gryffindors were brave and bold; ravenclaws were had the sharpest minds and basically bookworms; slytherins were cunning and shrewd while everyone else was in hufflepuff, the just and loyal.”

“hufflepuff sounds like the best house.”

“please! if you’re in hufflepuff, kill yourself,” draco taunts. “the houses were named after the founding members of hogwarts: godric gryffindor, rowena ravenclaw, salazar slytherin and hidelga hufflepuff.”

“how do you choose what house you’re in?”

“there is a hat – the sorting hat – that is placed on top of your head in your first year and it decides which house you’re in. fun fact, gryffindor and slytherins are bitter rivals, bitter to the bone that you have no idea. so, when a slytherin and a gryffindor start dating there are going to be people who are opposed to it. unfortunately, my house did not like it and disowned me, calling me a traitor for betraying my house and fraternizing with the enemy.”

“but you love harry!” sophia protests. “they can’t do that to you just because you love someone from another house.”

draco shuts his eyes, his shoulders slumping a little. “that was just the beginning. you have to know that i am not the only one who is a wizard – so is taylor and liam.” sophia gasps loudly as fu’s eyes widen quickly before going back to normal. “they were also there with me in our magical world.”

“shut up!” sophia gawks. “you’re kidding right? taylor can’t be a witch? who practices magic?!”

“and liam?”

“yes,” he nods at fu. “them both. liam was in hufflepuff and taylor was with me in slytherin.”

sophia snorts. “sounds like a total slytherin, even in this world.”

“some things never change.”

the three of them share a smile. draco clears his throat continuing with his tale of his magical truth. “because of my open relationship with harry, i chose my side and, in retrospect, i did not think it would be _that_ big of a change. the war was coming, coming sooner than any of us thought. the war was about light versus dark – i changed to the light side after seeing how horrible the dark side was.”

“good for you, draco.”

draco smiles, a little that does not reach his eyes, at fu. “there were consequences. my father was a pawn in the fight of the dark side, their leader voldemort,” –  he winces at the name but neither of the girls notice – “or as we call called him: the dark lord.”

“is that his real name, the dark lord?”

“tom marvolo riddle was his name, and backwards it spells ‘i am voldemort’, but i guess that name doesn’t sound threatening as dark lord,” he chuckles breathily. “leaving my father to fight on the other side of war was the best and worst thing i could’ve ever done. best because i got harry, no matter what, he was mine, and i his, we were together.” his cheeks tinge a light pink. “worst because i lost my family, and my house. and the last thing my father told me was, ‘without the dark, there is nothing you believe in.’ i stopped, turned to him and looked him in the eye, said, ‘if you’re looking for something other than the dark lord to believe in, believe me when i say i’m not coming back.’ and i walked out of my father’s life, my family’s life, and my house, for good.”

“draco!” sophia gasps, her face heartbroken at the thought of draco leaving everything behind.

draco slightly shakes his head. “i’m over it, sophia, no need for pity.”

“but—” draco glares at her and she immediately shuts up. but then as soon as draco turns to look at fu, she says speaks her mind.

“it doesn’t matter what you did but family is family and you never leave your family. you never leave them no matter what. even if they are—”

“my father tortured me all my life, and my mother barely did anything to stop him.” draco was raising his voice, his anger and bitterness at his family coming alive. “she never once raised a finger to stop the continuous torture my father placed on me. so you tell me, tell it to my face, that walking out of my family is not the greatest decision i’ve ever made.”

sophia looked torn. “bu-but you have no one, draco.”

“i have harry.”

“that’s not even guaranteed.”

before draco can respond heatedly, fu does, with a calm, yet sharp, tone. “sometimes after a painful ordeal, one tries not to think, not to feel. all you can do sometimes is breathe in and out and hope tomorrow is better.”

“which i am doing,” he says, pointedly.

 sophia’s mouth opens, her eyes frantically darting between fu’s calm eyes and draco’s narrowing eyes. “is… is it better?”

“it was until the war began. taylor was part of slytherin and she had the dark mark on her arm. the dark mark is sort of a tattoo-like mark given by the dark lord on your arm and he can sense you, make you do his bidding. basically, you’re a slave.”

“that sounds painful!” sophia brings her hands to her cheeks. “why would anyone want the dark mark?”

“it’s not optional,” says draco dryly. “he forces you to have it and i guess if you are dark, it is an honor because only the dark lord’s inner circle, and trusted people, get the dark mark. not just _anyone_ gets it.”

“what a burden to bear.”

he half-shrugs. “it was meant to be me getting the dark mark but because i was on the light side, i didn’t. taylor gracefully took it and flaunted it to everyone, especially me. she kept talking about betrayal, about traitors, and about being recognized but i didn’t care anymore. she was proud to be voldemort’s pawn and she did every single thing he asked. it’s not like you have a choice,” he adds.

“what?”

“the dark mark burns when the dark lord wants you to do his bidding.”

“strange.”

draco continues with his tale. “one task she was meant to do was kill professor dumbledore, one of the bravest men i’ve ever known. he was sort of a father-figure to my harry, meant a lot to him. harry was an orphan in the magical world – what with his parents being killed by the dark lord when he was a baby – he had no one to care for him, but dumbledore did. he loved him, and taylor killed him. for weeks he couldn’t eat, couldn’t laugh, he did nothing but sleep. i tried everything, everything i could to help him but nothing, absolutely nothing worked—”

“what happened next in the war?” asks sophia, changing the subject as draco looked as if he was re-living the past.

“only thing left to do: kill the dark lord. it was harry’s life goal to kill the voldemort,” he winced and this time fu noticed, “and mine was to kill taylor. but something somewhere went horribly wrong after harry did kill voldemort: taylor kidnapped harry.” his lips quiver, his eyes looking up at the bed canopy. “i don’t know where she took him, what she did to him, what happened, why….”

“draco,” sophia says, wrapping her arms around draco’s shoulders, tightly. “draco, i’m so sorry.”

“what happened?”

“after news got round that taylor kidnapped harry and took him… somewhere, we frantically searched. i searched, and searched, days turned to weeks, i was still searching. weeks into months and i still couldn’t find him.” his voice cracks and his eyes brim with tears. “hermione, ronald, pansy, neville – our friends – and i continued our search even if others gave up, told us to quit, that we would never find harry, but i wouldn’t. couldn’t. until two months ago when the ministry of magic got a clue as to where harry was.”

“what is ministry of magic?”

“it is like the government of the magic world. they told us that taylor had escaped into _this_ world, without magic, and that is why it took a long time for them to locate him. they made another guess that if taylor came into this world then she brought harry with him.”

“but?”

“but,” draco continues, steadying his gaze with fu. “i’ve been searching everywhere, looking across the country, all of england, wales, ireland, and scotland, but i feel no trace of harry anywhere.”

“trace… of harry?” sophia cocks her head to one side.

“i can sense him.”

fu looks at him in disbelief. “how?”

“we’re bonded and in the magical world, unlike this world, after a bond or marriage, you are able to feel your partner in ways you can’t imagine. your feelings are heightened. you feel your partner’s emotions, their fears, their happiness, what is theirs is yours… what was mine was harry’s automatically.”

 “isn’t that invasive?”

draco shakes his head, soft around the edges. “it’s… it’s beautiful in a way that i can’t explain.”

“he will tell us later.”

sophia holds fu’s gaze and mumbles an agreement. draco momentarily breathes a sigh of relief. “what i can feel,” he continues his tale, “is his brain being active but that’s it.”

“but… but how’s that possible?” sophia wonders, sitting properly on fu’s bed.

“his brain stem is active, but the frontal lobe, the part that makes someone human, is not activated. it’s dead.”

“i may not know much about human brains but that seems as if the person is dead. harry is dead.”

draco shakes his head. “his body is warm but it has been growing cold over the months, his heart is beating but it grows weaker with time, his memories, what was left in his brain, are vague and few and far in between. i can feel where he is if i go to where he is mentally.”

“what is that like?”

“i can feel cold on my back and head, the soles of my feet have dried blood, lips parted to let air in, a broken rib poking my lung and, with a slight movement, it will puncture it and his skin has lost its glow.”

draco was heaving, his head ducked down and his left hand pulling at his hair painfully. the two girls heard a sniff, then another louder one, but none could see his face.

“it’s okay to cry,” soothes sophia rubbing circles on his back.

“crying is weakness, that’s what my father always said. crying is weakness and i shall never cry.”

fu frowns slightly. “what else did the ministry of magic say?”

“they gave me until january to find harry,” he replies to fu, “or else my connection to my harry, through our bond, will cut off completely and he’ll have one month to live before he dies. but with his condition, he won’t have three days before he’s dead.”

“we won’t let that happen.”

sophia nods in agreement. “you tell us what to do and we will. we promise. but i have a question, when you invited us to your house, we saw your parents, we saw them, how come?”

“it was magic. i made you see them through a disillusion charm.”

sophia opens her mouth uselessly, then shuts it, and shakes her head. “but there was food, music, people…”

“all magic, sophia,” draco tells sophia, squeezing her knee slightly. “none of it was real. i… i’m sorry but i wasn’t ready to tell you the truth. sometimes, when i am at home, i cast a disillusion charm just so that i can pretend that harry is with me, that i am back at the magical world”

“we understand.”

“then why the hell can’t you bring back harry? why can’t you locate him with your…” sophia makes frantic hand movements, “magic?!”

“we did that in the magical world, we tried. but the ministry of magic has forbidden any use of magic outside the magical world which means _here_ and if you do it’s a one-way ticket to azkaban.”

“what’s azkaban?”

“a prison for wizards and witches.”

“azkaban,” sophia repeats, testing the word on her tongue.

“if harry is in this world, i’ll have to use everything i’ve got to find him without using magic and unfortunately it is slow and takes too much time because taylor will never let me find harry, ever, and i somehow have to anyway.”

“oi! hold on a minute. if taylor and liam escaped the magical world to come here, how come taylor has been… how come it feels like she’s been here… i don’t know, forever?”

draco darts his eyes from a curious sophia to an intrigued fu watching him intently.

“taylor cast a charm that made it seem as if she has been here for as long as all of you remember. it’s quite a charm, really, the inception charm. you never know when your dream starts, right? but you only remember the last details of it when you’re about to wake up. taylor cast the inception charm that made it seem as if you all grew up together; that everything that has happened taylor has been here this whole time.”

sophia and fu blanch.

“but… she… hasn’t, has she?”

“has she?” asks sophia in astonishment, shaking draco’s body. “harry, niall and taylor basically grew up together… liam too!”

“liam also cast the inception charm as well. but his was not as bad as taylor beca—”

“so… is any of it real?” asks sophia, her voice straining. “is anything that has been happening real? the last five years have been fake? what about the last twenty-four hours? what about you? are _you_ real?”

“calm down, sophia,” says draco, hand on her bare knee. “you spend too much time wondering what is part of the inception charm, what isn’t, you will drive yourself mad. just accept it and move on.”

“but you can?”

draco’s mouth curls upward. “of course _i_ can.”

“and you accepted the inception charm that taylor cast?” fu’s fist curls on top of her lap. “whatever she cast made you look like a bad person. all the mothers you tortured, all the people you manipulated, every wrong thing you did, it was real?” fu’s eyes are burning flames and draco pales a little, not having seen this side of her. “it was, wasn’t it? even without the charm, you really did do those things?”

sophia sharply inhales through her mouth. her head snaps to draco who looks as if is having a war of words in his mind. “holy fook! fu’s right!”

“i was angry, out of control. i lost my father, my mother abandoned me, my partner was kidnapped by a psycho—”

“gives you no right to harm someone’s mother.”

“i got lost in the dark of the night, fu. i was angry with the world. i tortured mothers for fun, driven by my anger, i always saw red, and driven by my anger i resulted to violence, not caring about who i hurt, what i hurt, how i went about it. it wasn’t worth feeling small joy life brings so i killed, killed to kill the ache in my soul.”

fu’s face is calm but her knuckles are stark white and trembling. “killing hurts.”

“there was this one time when i was with niall’s mother,” – sophia slaps her mouth with her hand and fu stiffens – “and the urge came. my anger run through me like a virus, took me hostage, and i saw red. i lost control. i saw red, red on my hands, red on my fingers, red all over niall’s mother’s body, i saw red. i didn’t hear her screams, i didn’t hear the sounds of her pleading to stop, all i saw was red.” sophia’s bottom lip is quivering and fu is frowning furiously but both of them are feeling pure fear toward the blond. “i saw red, i saw red, everything i saw was red, and i did it.”

“di-did what?” sophia is almost afraid to ask but she does anyway.

“he killed niall’s mother.”

sophia blanches. her breathing shallows and she shakes her head, slow at first but fast that her hair flies around her shoulders. she backs away from draco on the bed, sitting on the edge of it, her eyes fixed on an unmoving draco.

“she’s lying,” sophia barely whispers, “fu is lying. tell me she is lying. you did not kill niall’s mother.” she stops yelling, her sounds the only ones being heard in the room. draco remains quiet, his eyes focused on the wall behind fu. “she’s lying, isn’t she? you can’t be that cruel… draco. you. did. not. kill. her.”

“it was too late for her. one minute i was driven by my blinding rage, the next i had my arms around her neck and the sound of her skull crushing and the light vanishing from her eyes, and only then did i stop. and the whole time liam had been watching. he watched me and did nothing. he wouldn’t have stopped me anyway because i fear i would have taken his life if he did.”

“why did you kill all these people?” roars sophia. “does life mean nothing to you? do you not care, draco?”

“i’m sorry.”

“why apologize to me?” yells sophia, now off the bed, not wanting to share a bed with a killer. “how about saying sorry to niall? to zayn’s family? or even bloody harry for torturing his other? what about mckenzi—”

“i did apologize but they—”

“what did you expect them do to?” she bellows, her hands flapping around her.

“it’s because of loneliness.”

sophia starts, then looks to fu with swirling emotions. “what does that mean? what does draco’s loneliness have to do with him killing people’s mothers?” shouts sophia.

“there is the briefest of moments when i hold the mother’s life in my hands,” he answers shortly before fu can, “and i get to decide whether they live or die. and then i rip it away and i’m left alone, reminding myself i am left infinitely alone.”

“that’s absurd!”

“what made you stop?”

“ _what made you stop?_ ” she hysterically laughs at fu, not believing the nerve she has to sit calmly and ask draco this. “what made him stop? are you insane fu? how much sage have you had tonight? do you need to be checked for brain damage? why would you ask that silly question? he’s a bloody murderer!”

draco sighs, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before locking eyes with a fuming sophia. “liam cast his own version of the disillusion charm and changed history. he, first of all, charmed niall’s mother to be alive so as not to leave niall alone in the world without a mother. so, as of now niall’s mother is alive, and only when liam stops his charm will the world know that niall’s mother is truly dead.” he takes a deep breath, kneading his temple. sophia is shaking her head, not believing what is coming out of draco and how fu looks so, so calm. “secondly, every single torture i invoked on the mothers was made known to everyone – before no one knew it was me but suddenly everyone knew. this led everyone to sign my banishment from england, for good. but what really made me stop was something dumbledore once said: happiness can be found even if the darkest of times when one only remembers to turn on the light.”

“you were in the dark?” asks sophia softly, her anger at draco washing away from her being replaced with pity.

“loneliness does that.”

sophia blinks. then remembers why she has been angry at draco. “you’re a bloody murderer. you know killing hurts people, killing is wrong, yet you did it without remorse.” she stops off from the bed, grabbing her belongings as she mutters under breath about choosing wrong people for friends.

she stops at the door, turns around and glowers towards draco. “i don’t know how you live with yourself. i don’t know how you get up in the morning, look yourself in the mirror, and not want to throw up or punch it. i don’t know what your boyfriend harry saw in you.”

he will not lie, that cut deep in draco and he looks away from her, his eyes fixated on the red and black designs of the bed cover. neither him nor fu attempt to stop her as she slams the door to fu’s spacious bedroom. once the door shuts behind her, fu breathes in, then out.

“we need to formulate a plan of finding your partner, harry potter, before december.”

draco nods. “i realize that the decisions i’ve done, right and wrong, haven’t always been correct and i’d—”

fu shakes her head slightly at him.

“i don’t want your apologies, draco. save it for sophia tomorrow when she’ll want to hear it. i can see you are in a lot of pain in your eyes, i can see the demons hiding behind your eyes. we all have both light and dark inside us but most of us spend our entire lives not knowing what we’re capable of, but you did.”

“fu.”

she flattens her palms on her thighs, her shoulders square and back straight.

“growth is painful and so is change. but nothing is as painful as staying somewhere you don’t belong, somewhere that does not feel like home, somewhere where you’re trapped.” she parts her lips slightly, her shoulder slumping and it is the first time draco sees her letting her body relax. “we all grow up so fast we become stressed out we make a fool of ourselves. if i’m not wrong, you were born into a family filled with ignorance and wealth and power. your family did whatever it had to do to survive, which includes all your actions, but ever since you came into the light, you’re lonely because you don’t have anyone to talk to, you can’t show your feelings yet you’re tearing at the seams, you’re bullied, emotionally and physically, by your father and you do anything to get his approval which you of course never get, but most of all you grew up without love and now that the only thing that ever loved you is taken away from you, you slip into the dark unable to find your way.”

draco stills, his eyes not leaving fu. everything she has said, everything she has uttered… it is as if she has taken one look at him and known his entire life history. he does not spend time pondering how she knows but that _she_ knows, she understands him, even if she (most likely) hates him as much as sophia does.

still, he could not help but ask, “how did you know?”

“i have seen everything the world has to offer.”

“what do we do now? how do we find my harry in this muggle world?”

fu smiles shyly. “we sleep. no use in continuing without sophia.”

“bu-but....”

“no.” she slips inside the covers and brings them up to her chin, her back against the mattress. she’ll come round, trust me.”

laying his head down on the pillow, turning on his side, he says, “i know.”

“dumbledore was right when he told you about turning on the light. you need to remember to turn on the light to get relief from the pain.”

“i don’t know if i have,” he mutters. he turns on his side, facing fu who is laying on her back and it looks as if she is frozen stiff on the bed. “found the light, that is.”

“harry styles.”

“what?”

“he’s your light.”

and draco sleeps without nightmares tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack !! it's honestly been too long and i have honestly missed this story. im baaack. just a little background to understand draco better and he is becoming central to the plot [;


	70. 0.69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> louis meets a blast from his past who becomes his worst nightmare.

 

> **don’t ever be. never apologize for being yourself. not now, not tomorrow, not ever; never do because when you do you erase a part of yourself that someone out there loves… like me.**

         “welcome to ordinary level herbology,” mrs leaves announces to the class. “herbology is relatively a different class than your normal class in high school. we will be mainly doing practicals, but for theory, you shall be reading that on your own.”

harry breathes out through his mouth, enjoying the september sun warming his face. the class is taught outside in the large school garden that he did not know about until he started the class. he takes a look around his classmates, he barely knows any of them, three-quarters of them being girls, amongst them gigi and kendall. if he is being honest he does not know why he picked the class – other than the option of taking higher level biology which he will never take because ordinary biology is difficult in itself – but now that the class will be taking place outside a classroom, he’ll never drop the class.

“for this class,” mrs leaves continues, standing behind a table with several seeds spread across it, “we shall be learning all about plants; how to take care of them, watch them grow, until december, as well as _not_ letting them die. for today’s class, i want you to get into groups of threes and then pick any seed from the table and find a space to your left where you will find the school garden. pick wisely as this is the group you shall have until the end of the term.”

scanning the room, harry feels a million eyes are on him and he groans. he avoids contact with many of them, not wanting to get their hopes up. however, it does not work out as a fleet of girls are heading for him and he backs up. he turns his head right, left… spotting malfoy smirking at him, almost as if he wants to burst in laughter but is trying not to.

he marches to where he is, thankful at least _someone sane_ is in this class. “can we be partners? please?”

“hmm. i don’t know. sheila, shauna, and pinky seem to really want to be in your team,” malfoy fakes indifference, his hands in the pockets of his dark green trousers.

“malfoy,” harry groans, pleadingly. the next few minutes are nagging to harry as all the girls in ordinary level herbology are pleading to be on the same team as him, moreso now that malfoy is on his team making them the hottest pair in class, if not in the whole school. there is something about calm, cool malfoy and charming, toned harry that gets one drooling.

now, the scene shifts and girls are competing against each other for a spot in the malfoy/harry group. harry gets in the middle, trying to stop the fighting, malfoy chuckling to himself with his hands in his trouser pockets and leaning against the fence, all the while girls fighting that they should be in the group.

“i’m the best qualified,” says a red-headed girl, “my father owns the biggest horticultural import business in england.”

“our family owns the flower businesses in all of _uk_ ,” claims another girl.

“which went out of business a long time ago,” points out another girl.

“they are still relevant.”

“you’re dismissed,” drawls malfoy, waving a hand at her direction.

“malfoy!” harry shrieks, horrified. “you can’t just dismiss—”

“move bitch!” a girl shoves the girl that malfoy has dismissed. “you’re out of the game.”

“i like her,” malfoy whispers close to harry. harry only glares at him before a girl pops near his face, stating why she should be in their group. harry groans internally just hoping that he knew at least a person other than malfoy in this class, or perhaps slept with in freshman or sophomore year so that it would be easier to choose to be in their group. he can pick gigi or kendall but they have already formed their own group…

“what’s all this fuss?” shouts mrs leaves. “i thought i asked all of you to pick a group, a seed, find an empty space in the garden and wait for further instructions. harry, what is this?”

“i… uh, we’re looking for another team member,” he mutters.

“pick one person and move on!” cries mrs leaves. “i better find you and malfoy and your partner on the grounds when i come round.”

“malfoy you pick someone if you find this hilarious,” harry sighs watching malfoy snickering behind him.

“easy styles. pick the one who is not trying too hard,” he says and points at a girl with large black and white braids and brown skin. “her. she’s fab, african, skinny, rich and a little bit of a bitch. perfect.”

“girls aren’t pieces of meat. you can’t just _pick_ one because it looks good to your tastes.”

“would you rather pick a partner? i don’t think mrs leaves will like that,” drawls malfoy already walking to the african girl looking over at the table with the seeds. malfoy leaves harry apologizing to the girls, and greets the girl. “malfoy.”

“hi,” she says then her eyes bulge. “malfoy? as in draco malfoy? son of lucius malfoy?”

“the very one,” he says, his voice not the usual bored tone but light with a touch of narcissism. “and you are?”

“i’m donna zolo.”

“zolo’s sister?”

she nods. “you know her?”

he shrugs. “heard of her.”

“can we please get a move on?” interrupts harry standing at the table with seeds. “mrs leaves is following me.” he grabs a random seed and walks to the left of the class onto the school gardens. walking behind are donna and malfoy with his hands in his pockets, talking about where donna is from.

“i’m from south africa but dad said that we need to move to london for my mom’s kidney transplant. more qualified doctors or summat.”

“is she going to be okay?” asks malfoy.

“yeah. she’s starting her transplant on the first week of october. i just hope she’ll make it.”

“of course she will,” smiles malfoy at her. “she’s a strong lady, just like her daughter.” donna ducks her head, flustered at malfoy’s word and harry simply rolls his eyes.

“what about you, harry?”

“what about me?” he asks. the three of them arrive at a free space on the garden with a small hole.

“there are rumors going round that you and taylor are going to get back together next year before graduation,” she says.

“not true.”

“oh, well, it came from taylor so i assumed it was true,” she says.

“i’m dating louis in case you haven’t heard _that_ rumor,” he says pointedly. “which is true.”

“louis tomlinson?” she gasps. “ _the_ louis tomlinson?”

“what do you mean ‘the’?” harry inquires. he was starting not to like her, preferring her sister who was much, much better company. damn him for letting malfoy pick their partner.

“haven’t you heard?” she asks, leaning in to the two boys as if whispering. “rumor has it that his father is the owner of the famous, expensive mark troy gallery. of course none of us believe that rumor but so many people think it’s true while others think it isn’t but then—”

“it’s true.”

malfoy raises an eyebrow at him and donna’s eyes widen. “shut up!” she gasps. “are you serious?”

“what’s it to you?” he bites.

she raises her hand in defence. “i don’t mean to come off as prying, or offensive, it’s just that louis doesn’t seem like, well, a super rich kid. he never talks about mark, nor the gallery, nor the fact that—”

“because he doesn’t like to brag about his family name,” he says, eye malfoy purposefully. donna notices this and eyes him as well.

“do you two have history?” she asks tentatively.

“i am proud to be a malfoy. i wouldn’t want to take another family’s name,” he says, his eyes not looking at any of them but at mrs leaves talking to a group of three students. “no matter what happens to me, i will always be a malfoy.”

“family isn’t everything,” harry points out.

“family _is_ everything,” donna says strongly. “like they say blood is thicker than water.”

“that could be true,” says harry feeling his blood boiling for no reason. “family is blood true but it is also water. water is refreshing, it is cooling, and it’s not blood that is filled with secrets, lies, and hatred that has been growing for years.”

malfoy speaks up before donna can protest. his arms are folded across his chest. “family is family. whether it’s the one you grew up with, or the one you end up with, or the one that came along with you, it will always be your family.”

“better the one you grew up with than the one that came along with you,” mutters donna under her breath.

“what family doesn’t fooking hug? what family thinks touching is being needy?” growls harry. malfoy raises an eyebrow and donna looks as if she wants to smother harry with a thousand hugs.

“but that doesn’t mean your family is evil, it probably means that they don’t know how to love you like you…” she trails off suddenly feeling centre stage with two boys looking at her intently. she swallows thickly. “they don’t know how to love and they try their best.”

“you know what they love?” he asks her rhetorically. “they prefer money over you. they prefer bloodlines and bank accounts over love and friendship. you grow up learning that family are just people put together like a bloody group in class—”

“but what about during holidays? sitting across the table at christmas and seeing your parents with lovey dovey eyes, your sisters laughing together, your brothers sharing jokes with each other…”

“my christmases are spent overseas at a destination i can’t pronounce discussing business plans with my father, my mother spending her nights getting drunk with her single friends while i spend it closed in my room on the yatch watching _love actually._ ”

“he’s just upset that his family used him to seal a business deal with the waldorf family,” interjects malfoy. donna stares at him then at harry who is silently scowling at malfoy. “aw c’mon, everybody knows that. it’s not a secret.”

“something i’d not want to remember.”

“malfoy’s right. what happened to the ring then?” asks donna. “the ring that the waldorf family gave you to propose to taylor on graduation day?”

“i gave it to my boyfriend.”

“why?”

“i couldn’t keep it,” he shrugs.

“where did he take it?” asks malfoy. he shrugs his shoulders then sighing loudly.

“for whatever it’s worth,” says donna, realizing that their conversation has upset harry somehow, his mood melancholic. “friends are the family you choose. when family gets too much, when everyone becomes suffocating, you can rely on your friend’s comfort.”

harry gives her a small smile, and malfoy’s lip slightly tugs upward. “i think you just described louis.” he feels his neck get hot, his cheeks turning a bright crimson. donna glees at him while malfoy leans his head against the fence intently looking at harry’s cheeks burning brightly.

“alright!” mrs leaves says approaching their group. “now let’s see your seed…”

 **=                =            |           =              =**  


** **

“silence!” the teacher to higher level geography roars to the noisy class. “silence i say! sit down paul! silence! silence or i’ll be giving out expulsion papers to everyone.” **  
**

everyone shuts up immediately. mr raphy does not joke about expulsion papers, he will hand them out to anyone who disobeys his call for silence and just like that, you are out of the school, for good.

the class looks to the front where he is, and next to her is a teenager girl. she has brown hair reaching her down to her chest, with blond ends, and donned in a tribal pattern jumpsuit, with a bright green handbag hanging from her arm.

“fook no!” liam curses under his breath. niall, seating near liam in class, casts him a sideways glance but liam ignores him, instead focusing on the teenager girl.  “this can’t be happening!”

“do you know her?” whisper-asks zayn, seating to liam’s right.

“this is eleanor calder,” mr raphy introduces her in his hoarse voice. “she will be joining our class.” to her he says, “welcome to higher level geography. introduce yourself then find a seat with jonathan the back.”

she flashes a smile to the class, the boys smiling raptly at her except for liam who is clenching his fists on top of his textbook. “i’m eleanor calder, or el for short,” she says, her voice light and distinctly london. “i’m from doncaster and moved to london just last week….”

“she’s fooking gorgeous!” zayn leans in to whisper as she continues to introduce herself.

“shotgun!” niall whisper-cries, also leaning in.

“have her. she’s pathetic,” liam says, frustrated.

“you know her?” asks zayn, surprised.

“she’s a fooking asshole and a cunning, vile arrogant bitch,” liam spits. “she’s not to be trusted and she’s even worse than taylor.”

“she doesn’t look that bad,” says niall, glancing at eleanor at the front of the class who is still introducing herself. “in fact, i think i’m into brown-haired girls. blondes are overrated if you ask me.”

“amen to that!” zayn agrees. liam rolls his eyes, pocketing out his phone. he hides it well in case mr raphy sees him and gives him an expulsion paper. he opens the whatsepp group with harry, mckenzie, zayn, trisha, and, odd enough, kendall.

 **LIAM:** SOS!

almost immediately, there is a reply.

 **KENDALL:** What’s up?

 **LIAM:** WE’VE GOT A SITUATION!

 **KENDALL:** What sort?

 **LIAM:** ONE WHERE WE NEED TO ELIMINATE PEOPLE!

 **KENDALL:** Sick!

 **K:** Eliminate who?

 **LIAM:** Eleanor Calder. She’s new here and she has to go.

 **KENDALL:** Who’s she?

 **LIAM:** Doesn’t matter. All you have to know is that she has to go.

 **K:** Isn’t that Louis’ ex-girlfriend?

 **LIAM:** You know her?

 **K:** Harry just told me she dated Louis and sort of humiliated him (didn’t say how!?) and that’s all he told me. But he sounded really mad, like he ALREADY didn’t like this Eleanor.

 **KENDALL:** Whoever Harry hates, we do too!

 **K:** Agreed!!

 **LIAM:** She forced Louis to come out of the closet before he was ready!

 **KENDALL:** Shit!

 **LIAM:** And did MORE than that B.T.W. All you need to know is that she is mean.

 **KENDALL:** Why is she here?

 **LIAM:** That’s what I’m wondering…

 **KENDALL:** What class is this you’re in?

 **LIAM:** HL Geography

 **K:** Does Louis know she is here in school?

 **LIAM:** I don’t think so. Otherwise I would’ve have known. Harry too.

 **KENDALL:** I’m in O Herbology with him and he doesn’t look like he knows.

 **LIAM:** If he did he would be murdering her right now. But who the fook would bring her to OUR school?

 **K:** I’ve asked Gigi and she says it sounds like something Niall/Taylor would do.

 **LIAM:** Taylor said she wouldn’t go after Harry anymore. I mean, doesn’t she realize that HARRY IS OVER HER COMPLETELY?

 **K:** Some people never get it *cries in anger*

 **LIAM:** WE HAVE TO MAKE SURE ELEANOR AND LOUIS DO NOT MEET! HEAR ME? DO NOT MEET!

 **KENDALL:** What’s the worst that can happen?

 **LIAM:** You don’t want to know!

 

indeed, they do not want to know. the first incident proves liam’s worries. as louis is making his way through the courtyard to his locker, their japanese teacher requesting them to get their dictionaries, he meets _her_ on her way to higher level geography.

his body freezes on the spot, his jaw hanging loosely from his face. his eyes are trained on her, never moving, following her walk casually to class. as she turns to head towards the humanities block, his knees give in and he collapses to the ground.

 the next time he spots his ex-girlfriend, he is walking with nick grimshaw heading to the courtyard for their break time at 11 o’clock. chatting to nick about manchester city being the best football club this season because of guardiola, he spots her again. his legs stop moving, immobilized on the spot. he literally feels his blood freezing from his toes up to his neck then his head and he falls to his left, shouts from nick the last thing he hears.

he blinks his eyes open, staring at a light green ceiling. he is in the infirmary room. he groans. he can hear faint voices somewhere to his left and his left arm is aching just a little.

“louis?” he turns his head to his right, seeing nick looking over him at him. “you’re awake! are you alright?”

“what happened?” he asks, feeling his voice weak.

“you passed out in the courtyard,” he explains, worry in his voice. “out of nowhere you just froze and fell to the ground. it was scary, mate.”

“i’m fine,” he says, hoping his voice is not as weak as it was when he opened his mouth. he manages to sit up on the bed and the school nurse walks in right away.

“mr tomlinson,” she says, her voice curt and sharp. “good thing you’re awake. what happened?”

“i-i don’t know, ma’am.”

“well, you fainted, that’s for sure. your sugar levels were low,” she says, jotting something down on her clipboard. she looks frustrated, if her face is anything to go by. “when you feel your head barely missed the stone seat in the courtyard so you’re very lucky, mr tomlinson. and it seems you are suffering from… shock.” she looks up as she finishes her sentence.

louis simply shrugs. “i don’t know. i have class, can i go now?”

“certainty,” she agrees, her tone sharp. “if i see you back here, i’ll be sending a note to the principal. and you, mr grimshaw, make sure louis eats something before heading to class.”

“yes, ma’am.”

they both make their way out of the infirmary and head to the cafeteria to munch on something.

“what happened?” he asks, this time letting his worry show. “you fell to the ground lou, out of nowhere.”

“i don’t know. i… i didn’t eat breakfast for sure,” lies louis. he pops an éclair into his mouth, the feel of caramel soothing to his tongue. “i’m going to eat this entire bag before lunch time.”

“with a father as a dentist?” grins nick. “you’ll eat three and feel guilty about it.”

louis laughs. “and i’ll brush my teeth like crazy when i get home.”

just like that, the sight of his ex-girlfriend and falling incident is forgotten. until five minutes before lunch time. louis last lesson before lunch is film, and it is the furthest block (hollywood block) from the rest of the school. sophia and liam are walking with him, chatting about nothing much. liam does not tell louis about eleanor, and louis keeps mum about sighting his ex-girlfriend on the school grounds as well as his fainting incidences.

“i honestly can’t believe that you’re friends with that asshole of a malfoy,” grunts liam.

“he’s not as bad as you think,” defends sophia. “most people surprise you.”

“like him having friends?” liam scoffs. “that did surprise me. though judging from the few friends he has,” he casts a sideways glance to sophia, “i’m not surprised those are his friends.”

now sophia took it personally. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

before liam can snort back an answer, louis grabs liam’s shoulder painfully, before sliding down his back and onto the ground.

“louis!” sophia shrieks. “louis!”

“louis,” liam calls out, gently shaking his shoulder. “fook! louis!”

“i think he’s fainted,” she says. “lift his legs above his body and he’ll come back round.”

“you did first aid?” he questions but does as she says.

“when i was in middle school i did,” she replies. she checks to see if his feet are above his body. “my friend fainted and i didn’t know what to do so after that whole thing, i joined the first aid club in school.”

“i wonder why he fainted,” murmurs liam, watching louis’ closed eyes worriedly. “it’s unlike him.”

“he’ll be alright, liam,” sophia tries, soothing, “but i wouldn’t know.”

“what kind of first aid person were you?”

“i’m not good at bedside manners,” admits sophia.

“picking up from malfoy, are we?” snorts liam. sophia does not respond and they sit in silence on the grass, waiting for louis to wake up. he does, liam startling at rushing to louis’ face. “louis? are you okay?”

he nods, mumbling under his breath.

“what?” asks sophia.

“éclairs. bag.”

liam opens his bag, fishing for éclairs that he finds: half an empty bag of them. “have you eaten all of these?” he asks, giving him one.

“i fainted at break time,” says louis, unwrapping his éclair sweet. “the school nurse said i should have sugar in my system and not return back.”

“not return?” asks sophia. “what does that mean?”

“i don’t know. some people honestly should not be school nurses.”

“and i thought you had horrible bedside manners,” smirks liam at sophia. louis attempts to stand up, liam rushing to help him up and sophia grabbing his bag. “it’s lunchtime so let’s go get some food. put something in your stomach.”

“i don’t think i can go to work after school with all this collapsing,” mumbles louis.

“you’ve fainted more than once?” shrieks sophia. louis ignores her. “how many times?”

“please don’t tell harry,” pleads louis. “please. can’t get him worried for nothing.”

“louis…”

“please guys,” he pleads again. “please, don’t tell him. he’ll be worried, and he’ll fuss, and he’ll follow me home to make sure i’m alright.”

“on one condition,” says liam, “you will not work after school and no football practice.”

“fine.”

soon, they are in the cafeteria, sophia bidding them goodbye and heading to their table which fills with their company, louis’ boyfriend, mckenzie, trisha and her two minions (who sit on the table behind her) and go on about chatting, liam and louis shutting their mouths about louis’ fainting and the rest keeping eleanor calder a secret not knowing it is the reason for louis’ collapses and harry aloof with everything going on.

hand in hand, louis and harry make their way to mrs maths class, harry talking about his first time planting _anything_  and he did not know how much dirt would be involved in. louis laughs, and smiles at the appropriate times, his mind elsewhere. he is thinking about eleanor. what is she doing here? how is she here? how did she find him? what will she do to him? she knows about his past, about what he did, about oli, his best friend, she knows his past so well, something he has never told harry, and now she is here…

he reaches into his bag, takes out an éclair sweet, giving one to harry as well, and sucking on it, the taste of caramel soothing his nerves.

“are you ready?” harry asks, taking his place third row in mrs maths class.

“ready for?” asks louis.

“for your presentation!”

“oh yeah,” he says, ignoring harry’s slight worried look. “of course i am. the tommo man is always ready, asshead.”

harry grins. “as if. and honestly, what kind of name is ‘tommo’?”

“the best.”

“here i thought you would prefer beckham.” louis lightly punches him. “ow! you did abandon him for guardiola so…”

“beckham will always be the g.o.a.t but doesn’t hurt to have guardiola there in the mix,” he replies, smiling at harry. and just like that, harry forgets his worries and louis sighs in relief inwardly.

mrs maths enters class late, as usual, and immediately says presentations are to begin. the first duo group – niall and taylor – present on shakespeare’s _macbeth_. mrs maths praises them, their presentation earning them an a+ and she informs the class to take note of their stunning presentation.  omar and yenn are next presenting on voltaire’s _candide_. they receive a c+ at best, mrs maths complaining for close to 20 minutes about their pitiful attempt at a presentation on of the greatest literary pieces.

louis and solan are next, presenting on fitzgerald’s _the great gatsby_ , a favourite of louis’. harry gives him a thumbs up when his gaze falls on his boyfriend, breathing in and out, before starting his presentation.

he introduces the book, it’s summary and then solan goes on to describe the themes, going in detail as to the meaning, and looking at them in-depth. louis follows that up with describing the role of the characters, and talking about his favourite character, daisy buchanan, and how she really was not a “beautiful fool” as fitzgerald book describes her.

“do you think,” interrupts mrs maths, “that jay gatsby did find the green light?”

louis clears his throat. “i do not think so because he was seeking something that already happened in the past. he was trying to repeat the past when you really can’t.” he takes a breath, his eyes locking with harry’s shining ones. he briefly smiles before continuing, “he was re-creating the past, attempting to recover his relationship with daisy, start from the beginning, start everything right this time round and sadly his mind would never be free. he was trapped but he believed in the green light and therefore never gave up. gatsby did not find the green light because the light was never in front of him as we are led to believe, it was behind him, it was always behind him as fitzgerald perfectly put it: ceaselessly into the past…”

words are caught in his throat. his breathing stops and he feels it all over again. his legs slowly become jelly as his eyes watch eleanor make her way into the class from the back door. harry’s head is the first to turn back, noticing that louis did not stop talking for a dramatic pause but because his eyes are fixated on… eleanor calder!

“fook!” liam curses. “i thought she was taking literature not english?”

“she _is_ taking literature,” trisha murmurs as heads slowly turn to eleanor standing behind the class. “higher level literature.”

“then why the fook is she _here_?” liam curses. “this is higher level english not higher level  literature.”

harry snaps his head back to louis. “louis,” he hisses quietly, attempting to get his attention. “louis!”

but louis’ body is frozen in place, his chest barely moving from lack of breathing. his face blanches, his throat completely dry. eleanor walks to the front of the class, her gaze locked with louis’, and he takes a step back.

“…cease…less…ly…” he trails off, his eyes not leaving eleanor. he looks at her as if a ghost is floating through the room, heading for him, ignoring everyone in the class but not him.

“louis!” harry mumbles loudly but the words float in the air. some have their eyes on the teenage girl, especially zayn and niall, others have curious glances at louis’ pale face including solan who is awkwardly standing beside him and the rest of the glass wondering what louis’ is mumbling about.

“cease… lessly… less…” louis back is against the whiteboard, his arms frozen by his sides. “cea… past… ceaselessly into the… the… cease… the past….” it is only when eleanor sits besides taylor that harry sees it in a matter of seconds: louis’ eyes shutting slowly, his body sliding to the left of the whiteboard and a scream about to burst from solan’s lips.

he jumps from his seat, rushing to the front of the class as louis collapses onto the ground with a loud thud.  
  


**=                =            |           =              =**

 

louis stirs. he feels a warm body pressed to his right, and his the back of his head throbbing at slight pain. a scent of banana shampoo and vanilla wafts around him and he knows it is harry. he groans inwardly. he has a lot of explaining to do.

“you’re awake?” harry asks softly. he has his eyes closed, his nose brushing louis cheekbone and his leg rubbing up on louis’ own leg. “louis?” he asks again when louis remains quiet.

“hmm?”

“what happened?”

“dunno.” the skin on his hip is warms as he is reminded that harry has his palm on his bare skin, his thumb drawing small circles. “fainted, me thinks.”

“like 20 times or so,” he says to louis, his voice low but filled with pure concern and anxiety and a hint of crossness. “liam was here.”

 _shit_ , he curses inwardly. “he was there when i fainted and i asked him not to tell you, my butterfly. don’t get mad at him.”

“i do have a right to get mad at him,” he says, pressing his body closer to louis’. “he knew something was wrong and he did nothing about it.”

“i didn’t want to worry you.”

harry snorts in louis’ ear. “great job.”

“harry what’s upsetting you?” he asks, sighing loudly. harry’s grip on his bare hip tightens and he swallows hard.

“i’ll tell you exactly what is upsetting me. the fact that liam knew, he knew why you fainted, when you fainted, even that sodding nick knew, but i didn’t. when the school nurse was asking questions, i didn’t bloody know anything when i should’ve. i knew nothing yet it seemed as if the entire school knew because you trust them.”

louis turns his head slowly to his right, his nose brushing harry’s. harry opens his eyes and locks his eyes with him. _hurt_ , louis thinks to himself, he can see hurt in his eyes. and mild distress, too.

“eleanor is back.”

“apparently you knew but neglected to tell me.”

“i fainted the first time in the courtyard and some teacher found me and i didn’t think it mattered because it was not to happen again.”

harry closes his eyes and nuzzles his nose. “great job, that. doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t tell me.”

“i barely got it through my head that eleanor is really here. i thought i was seeing my own things, that i was hallucinating but when she entered mrs maths class i knew for sure that she is really here, and to stay.”

“you don’t know that,” he whispers, his warm breath spreading color to louis’ cheeks. “she could be leaving.”

“i had an entire bag of éclairs so i wouldn’t collapse all the time.”

harry chuckles. “dan is going to murder you.”

louis laughs. “i’m brushing my teeth for an hour when i get home.”

harry does not respond but buries his lips and teeth into the space between his neck and shoulder. he bites on the spot, his teeth grinding the skin, as he lifts his body of the bed and straddles louis, his hands pressed to the pillow holding his body up. louis gasps at the sensations on his neck, the overpowering feeling of harry above him, his lips kissing him, soothing his australian-sized hickey.

sitting up, his fingers slide down the red love bite, and he smirks. “i should be the one to know, the one you trust. not liam, not fooking nick, not even a bloody teacher.” his eyes lower and automatically so do louis’. he does not need to anyway as harry’s hands slide underneath his shirt, trailing his stomach, feeling every curve, every inch of it. “me alone.” his fingers curl slightly as he trails his nails down louis’ sides and stop at his briefs hemline. “mine.”

words die on his tongue as harry smashes their lips together. harry pins his arms above his head, his hands pinning his wrists harshly he cannot move them, not even twist. he lets harry dominate the kiss, his tongue needy, wanting, and harsh in his mouth, yet delicious.

harry stops the kiss abruptly, working his jawline with fast wet kisses, down to his shoulder blade and his shirt is off the blink of an eye. harry locks his gaze with him. he feels his cock twitch watching harry’s eyes darken with lust, jealously and a tinge of _himself_. he bites down on his lip as harry makes his way down his body to his happy trail.

he sits up abruptly and louis chest sinks into the white infirmary bed. he quickly unbuttons his silk, stripped shirt and throws it off to the ground. louis eyes drink him in; his swallow tattoos, his large butterfly tattoo, his bulging biceps that are flexing on purpose but most of all the crown ring the one he gave to him as a present, dangling where his heart is.

“i’m yours,” he moans and harry smirks, unzipping his jeans with his teeth as his hands heat his chest by moving all around him.

“you are,” harry growls, yanking his jeans and briefs off. “all mine and nobody else’s.”

“yes.” the word is caught in his throat as harry swallows all of him in one go. he jerks his hip up, the tip of his cock hitting the back of harry’s throat. he grunts loudly; he is not going to _last_. his hands find harry’s head and undo his bun, the hair tie lost somewhere on the floor, and his fingers rustling in harry’s hair, guiding his mouth on him.

with his warm mouth around louis, he flips louis hand off his hand and pins his wrists to the white bed sheets. louis attempts to wriggle his wrists but harry has a firm grip on them he momentarily wonders how strong harry _really_ is.

“please,” he begs when harry does not move, just has him wrapped with his mouth.

“please what?” he asks him innocently. his lips brush on louis head. “what do you want, angel?”

“you.”

“is that so?” he asks. he laps his tongue up and down louis’ throbbing cock, licking it clean from white cream.

“it’s always you,” he moans, burying the back of his head into the pillow. “always fooking you. never doubt it.”

“do you trust me?” he asks, his warm fingers playing with louis’ aching balls. louis gasps, arching his back off the bed. harry’s hand pushing his stomach back down to the bed, his eyes locking with louis’ hazy ones.

“you have me, butterfly. i trust _you_. all of me, it’s yours. my body is yours, my mind yours, heart only for you, and even my fooking cock it’s all yours and not a day goes by without me thinking about you and… and fooking suck me off because i’m close.”

“rude,” he smirks and louis tries hard not to roll his eyes but mutters, “asshead.”

“please… harry please,” he moans. he tries to wriggle his wrists but harry presses them further into the bed. he takes all of louis into his mouth, the boy laying on the bed sighing in pleasure, and it is not long because a warmth spreads on his stomach. he yanks his wrists free and harry holds them stubbornly in place, his warm, wet lips working around him, his tongue pressing hard on his cock, and he sucks hard, harder, _harder_ , pulling louis’ orgasm out of him.

louis pants, catching his breath. his wrists are free but he does not move them instead still tangled in the bedsheets. harry tucks him inside his briefs, then zips up his jeans.

“don’t think i’ve ever had sex in the infirmary before,” says louis, catching his breath.

harry grins at him. “me neither. first time.”

“i love you,” he says, sealing harry’s lips in a surprise kiss. “i love you and only you.” harry gives him a chaste kiss, then another, and licks his bottom lip. he buttons his own shirt as louis looks at his watch. “we have 30 minutes before 4 o’clock. can’t go to class, nor can we go home.”

“are you going to starbucks to work today?”

louis shakes his head. “called ginny to take my shift and will make it up to her this weekend.”

“good. then you and i can to order curly fries and lots, and lots of barbecue sauce,” harry says. his lips twitch as louis smiles brightly at him, then kisses his jaw.

“smoky barbecue sauce.”

“until then, _adventure time_?” he asks him. they make their way down the empty hallways to harry’s locker to fetch his laptop and head to an empty classroom. however, louis slumps down on the floor and crosses his legs like a pretzel. harry raises an eyebrow at him.

“library is too far. plus by the time we find an empty classroom the bell will ring and it’ll be too late.” harry shifts his weight. “or is your delicate silk shirt too pricey to touch the floor?”

harry rolls his eyes then shuts his locker, sitting himself down besides louis, and stretching his legs out in front of him. he leans into louis as he clicks on the _adventure time_ folder on harry’s macbook.

“harry,” he says almost quietly and harry turns his head to meet louis’ gaze, “i’m really sorry for today but i love you,” he cups harry chin, “only you and no one else.” he pecks his lips. “whoever knows first about my past, or is there when something big happens in my life, i’ll always tell you about it if you’re not there.” his lips linger on harry’s lips. “it’s always you.”

“i’m sorry for freaking out,” he apologizes. “i… i just felt that… i felt left out in the dark about everything, s’all.”

he quickly kisses harry’s jaw. “i know.” he smiles but before clicking play he remembers something. “oh, on sunday, dad is having a barbecue and he’d like you to come.”

“really? what’s it about?”

“just a get-together. friends, beer, the whole thing.”

“i’ll be there… not for the beer part, though,” he grimaces then and they both laugh. “what time?”

“after church,” he answers.

harry runs his fingers through his hair. “alright. i’ll pick you up then go home. still at liam’s?” louis nods. “how’s the house hunt going?”

“mama’s been busy this week and so couldn’t go house hunting. on saturday she’s dragging fizzy to go house hunting, i escaped and told her i had football practice.” harry smirks at him. “haven’t you had sunday brunches organized by your father?”

harry snorts bitterly. he leans his head back against the locker, looking up and the various rows of lockers. “the only brunches my father every attended were the ones which my mother organized which, of course, had far too many cocktails, champagne bottles with lots and lots of butlers flying around filling everyone’s glasses. half the people who came were there for my mother because she’s everyone’s sick fantasy,” he rolls his eyes and louis looks away, embarrassed he, a long time ago, jerked off to images of her, “and the rest to get closer to my father who was always in his study in the mansion, avoiding everyone.”

“i’m sure there is one where you had a good time.”

a ghost smile appears on harry’s face but it is gone completely. “the only good sunday brunch i’ve ever gone for was three years ago when my sister was there. she and i sort of were a team against my parents, it made it easier whenever they imposed something on us and we’d easily buff them off. my father was not in his study, my mother was tipsy,” he rolls his eyes, “for once she wasn’t drunk and it almost felt like a family.

“till my father started praising niall in front of everyone. he brought niall to the front, gave him a bloody champagne glass, clinked and talked about how great he was, how much of a son he wanted in niall than me. he went on and on about the times he spent with niall, golf, road trips, getting into harvard before me, the audi that niall bought him and just months before i bought the exact same fooking audi that he didn’t like.

“i looked around and,” his bottom lip quivers, “everybody was in awe. even gemma was. mckenzie, liam, taylor, zayn… everyone was listening to my father as if he was talking about me but he wasn’t. for a moment i wondered what he would say about me if i was with him at the front…” he looks down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers, breathing heavily through his nostrils. “i left and ran up to my room, locking myself, and cried myself to sleep.”

“not knowing you is your father’s loss,” louis says to him, voice full of faith. he takes both of harry’s hands into his, laptop long forgotten. “you’re allowed to miss your father, harry. you shouldn’t feel ashamed by thinking about him from time to time, you shouldn’t feel small just because he prefers niall over you because that’s idiotic of him, no offense. but no matter what, he’ll always be your father at the end of the day and no one, not even niall, can take that away from you.”

“but i _am_ ashamed of it.”

“you’re allowed. you’re allowed to love him, miss him, want to be with him… you’re allowed.”

he takes a deep breath in, then out through his mouth. he looks down at louis’ hands on top of his and smiles just a little. “i told you i get sad sometimes and  i don’t know why,” he laughs, no humor in his voice. “sorry.”

louis shakes his head, cupping both of harry’s cheeks. “don’t ever be. never apologize for being yourself. not now, not tomorrow, not ever; never do because when you do you erase a part of yourself that someone out there loves… like me.”

harry chuckles, nodding at him, and leaning to embrace his lips. “thank you for listening.” he kisses him once more, swiping this tongue along louis bottom lip. not even the sounds of chattering growing around them stops their kiss from deepening; harry opens his mouth wide as louis explores his mouth with his tongue.

“excuse me!”

only then do they reluctantly let go to find a foot tapping rapidly. harry gets up as louis scrambles for harry’s laptop, his cheeks burning.

“hey serena,” harry grins. “lovely day?”

“much lovelier if you weren’t making out in front of my locker,” she spits.

“sorry, love,” he shrugs at her.

“try next time,” she says as she opens her door furiously. harry turns to louis, snickering as they head to louis’ locker to fetch his things.

“that was so embarrassing,” louis cries quietly.

“that was hot,” harry clarifies. louis rolls his eyes, his cheeks red, and opens his locker. “whatever that tongue flick was _please_ do it again.”

louis smiles, shaking his head. “i wonder what i’ll be taking home to do… i have an art thing to do,” he says mostly to himself but harry is listening, “then i have a stupid biology quiz that i don’t even know where to start reading. i should’ve dropped it in january… do you think it’s too late?”

“should’ve taken herbology.”

“i still don’t know how you were able to drop biology and take herbology,” says louis, taking out his biology textbook. “if the rest of us try, we’ll be told no.”

“only if you’re harry styles,” he says smugly. louis simply rolls his eyes. “don’t forget your history text book.”

“why?”

“you need to revise for the cat next week,” harry says, not believing that louis has actually forgotten about it. “please tell me you remember that.”

“oi!”

“can i put my herbology book in your locker?” asks harry. “just remembered i don’t need it and the extra weight is dragging me.” he hands him the herbology book.

“it says _how to garden_ on the cover,” says louis reading the textbook then placing it in his locker. “that’s what you do in that class, garden? like a bunch of old grannies?”

“hush it tomlinson,” harry swats his arm, “it’s therapeutic. i get it now why marrit kept tending to her garden all the time.”

“the old german girlfriend?” asks louis, teasing. “who could forget her?” harry has his eyes narrowed but his lips are fighting a smile. louis shuts his locker and takes harry’s fingers with his. “speaking of, have you found a way to get back into toarechosen club? to lift your suspension i mean?”

“nope. malfoy and i are offically friends so it shouldn’t be long before he gives me an entry. though fu said i only got his attention,” he says as an afterthought.

“i still don’t like malfoy, no matter what you or sophia say about him, the stories i’ve heard are enough to scare me for three lifetimes, but if you think he’s changed then i believe you but doesn’t mean we’re going to be sharing a couple of beers anytime soon.”

 

back in harry’s mansion, larry stylinson are in harry’s study on the 4th floor. harry is sitting at his vintage study desk working through his chemistry equations while louis, preferring the floor, has several papers around him, answering question 1 – 10 for their biology assignment. he has been stuck on question 2 for 25 minutes now.

he looks up from his textbook to harry. his brows slightly scrunched together, his bottom lip pouting, his right hand stuck in his hair as his left hand writes quickly. louis bites his bottom lip. even in intense concentration, he manages to look stunningly attractive, magnetic, and yes, yes, yes he does truly love harry. more than he ever shows.

he gives up on his biology assignment – he can panic about it tomorrow morning or copy off trisha – and picks up his sudoku book, the one harry gave him as a present. he is on puzzle #89, three-quarters through finishing it. he gets lost in the book that he does not remember resting shutting his eyes and snoring.

“angel.”

he jerks awake at harry’s voice. he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, getting off the couch. “how did i get here?”

“the floor looked uncomfortable.”

“what time is it?”

“dinner time,” he replies cheerily, “c’mon.”

 “do you know why i’ll never cook?” asks louis. he is cozy and warm in harry’s large four-poster bed with harry applying night cream on his hands at the foot of the bed. he looks up and shakes his head, moisturizing his hands. “honestly, why do you even apply that on yourself?”

“i don’t want old skin by the time i’m 24,” he says, affronted. he gets into his bed, lays down on the white, fluffy pillow and pulls the large white duvet to his shoulders and gives louis all his attention.

“so this one night i was trying to make curry, yeah?” louis begins, a smile growing on his lips. harry smiles despite himself. “so then i momentarily forgot that chilli burns so _whoops!_ i got chilli burns all over my face.”

harry chuckles, his dimples visible.

“but oh gosh, that was just the beginning of the end. since i had chilli all over my face, and i was home alone, and my face is burning and i think, ‘if i eat something chilli and drink milk, the burn goes.’ so that’s what i did.”

“oh no!”

“i wanted to make sure that the milk could soothe the chilli burns on my face but i could not google...”

“why?”

“i couldn’t _see,_ styles.”

harry laughs out loud, and turns his head into the pillow to muffle his laughter.

“but thankfully i knew where the fridge was, so blindly i walked around the kitchen, found the fridge and poured cold milk down my face. but that did nothing to stop the pain so i just dipped my head in a bowl and poured the milk.”

“wh-what?” he asks, his mouth laughing aloud, eyes shut. “what the fook, louis?!”

“that’s not all,” says louis, voice amused and humiliated at the same time. “i was cooking rice, right? so the rice cooker went off and i don’t know what the fook happened but it triggred a power outage which turned the electricity off.”

“oh no,” he stifles his chuckles into the pillow.

smiling, louis continues, “and because i had my face in a bowl of fooking milk i didn’t know the lights were out so when i opened my eyes i thought i had gone blind with chilli burns. _blind_ , harry.

“i know it’s not funny but— this is hilarious,” harry roars in laughter.

“i thought i was blind but it was just dark because there were no lights,” louis sighs, shaking his head at the memory of that night. “and now i don’t cook. at all.”

harry’s laughter high falls down to occasional chuckles, his eyes glittering at louis who is sitting cross-legged on the bed in harry’s pyjamas. “you’re the best, angel. absolute best. i’d have wanted to see your face covered in milk.” his lips tremble and burst out in laughter. “i bet you were adorable!”

“i am not adorable,” he says, in mock hurt. “i have you know i am manly.”

“and funny. and handsome. and rugged,” adds harry, his cheeks crimson and eyes alive. “but yes, definitely a bit manly.”

“a bit?”

“adorable manly.”

louis’s head falls in a huff. there is no winning with harry on this one.

“my adorable manly boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i'm evil ?? but fellaaasss what is a larry fanfic WITHOUT eleanor to hate (or love) ?? LET'S. GET. THIS. STARTED ! [;   
> kudos & comments are always welcome [: till next time *disappears in a puff of rainbow smoke*


	71. 0.70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry spends time with malfoy.

 

> **the boy who made all the wrong choices is making the right ones now. second chances.**

 

“how do you hide a soul?”

draco startles, not to the question but fu appearing out of nowhere on his way to the mathematics block. she is wearing a maxi-skirt with a red blouse, a ribbon tied at the collar and her graceful walk and poise always carrying her effortlessly.

“what do you mean hide a soul?” he eventually asks. they are in the school courtyard and he stops to sit down on one of the stone benches, spotting sophia emptying her locker by getting her books for her morning classes.

“if taylor brought harry potter with her to our world, where we don’t practice magic, she would have to preserve the body or else it would begin to rot. so, how do you hide a soul?”

draco watches her sit across the stone table from him and fleetingly wonders if what he revealed about himself at her mansion is creating this space between them. “there are many ways actually.”

“what is the one that you would use?”

“me? why me?”

fu straightens her back further and tilts her chin. “because you said you were both in slytherin house therefore you both think alike, even if you are in the light and she is in the dark. some things never change.”

“i would hide a soul in an object.”

“an object?”

“the dark lord did the same thing. he hid, or split, part of his soul in an object for example a diadem or a cup, so that he can live forever. of course, this is against mother nature, it is one of the darkest practices of magic one can do; it is pure evil. but the dark lord did and split his soul seven times – he put his soul in seven objects, one of them being my harry.”

she startles. “a human?”

fu looks horrified and draco understands, partially. he nods. “it was an accident really, he did not mean to put part of his soul in harry, but he did, and for years harry lived with voldemort inside of him.” fu lips press together and her eyes stare at the grey area on the stone table. “but that’s advanced magic, i do not think waldorf did that. otherwise she would not be able to survive in this muggle world.”

“muggle?”

“a person who is neither a witch or wizard. for example, you and sophia are muggles.”

“but she hid harry potter somehow… but not in an object? can you conceal someone’s magic?”

“that’s what she did; that’s why she brought harry with her to this world where magic is not allowed.”

“you’re not allowed to practice magic?” asks sophia, appearing behind draco suddenly. draco spins his head so fast he might have whiplash. sophia giggles and bends down to peck his cheeks twice. “love doing that!”

“don’t do that,” draco grunts. “it’s not funny.”

“it always will be,” she grins, sitting between fu and draco. “what were you two talking about before i came? and what’s this about not practicing magic?”

“the ministry of magic bans the use of magic in this world, the use of it is a one-way ticket to azkaban—”

“but taylor and liam did those charm magic stuff…” says sophia, her voice trailing off as draco chooses to remain quiet, his thumbs fumbling with themselves on top of the table. “how come? how are liam and taylor able to do magic but you aren’t?”

“because draco is specifically not allowed.” draco’s shoulders slump as fu states the reason aloud. “if draco dares to do magic, if he dares to even do something as simple as a charm, then he is shipped off to the magic world leaving his harry potter behind.”

“draco!” sophia chides, swatting his back. “you’ve been using charms and magic and whatnot this entire time, like that time with the party where you faked everything , and yet you know you’re not allowed to use magic? why would you?”

“i wanted you to like me.”

“bu-but we do,” sophia stammers, confused at draco admitting such a thing because it seems below him. “we like you, you know that.”

fu interrupts the both of them. “can we talk about this later? we need to locate where harry potter is and talking about why draco cannot use magic and why the rest can will not get us anywhere.”

draco nods at fu, grateful for intervening at the moment. “right. because i cannot practice magic, i am using my membership with toarechosen to get my way around london.”

“how?” asks sophia, puzzled.

“toarechosen is a secretive club that allows you to do anything you want in this world, literally anything you can dream of. not many people are members—”

“that’s the club that you made harry leave and give up his position to you some years back?” interjects sophia loudly. “you made him give it up as you almost killed his mother?”

“it was after i killed niall’s mother that liam said i would be banished that i started making plans of the future, and one of them was being a member of toarechosen where, even if i am banned, i can get back into the uk legally, with of course, one signature on the paper. anybody’s signature will do really, as long as they are british.”

“so how will this club help in search of harry?” questions sophia.

“i am currently gathering every information on the waldorf family,” explains draco. “since we know that she has not been in her current family since the day she was born but really, only from a couple of years back, therefore i have begun my research from then. i am gathering all her secrets, her accounts, her whereabouts of the past three years, who she has been in contact with especially from my world, everything i can i am getting because she is precise, and therefore, careful.”

“and liam?”

“why liam?” asks sophia fu.

“perhaps liam has been in contact with taylor in the background where nobody sees and the talk.”

“waldorf and payne ended whatever relationship they had the moment they came here,” says draco. “the both of them do not talk but i already searched about payne. he had no idea about harry and where he is, only that he is in this world.”

“you need to ask him then,” says sophia. “he might give us a clue. he has been here longer than you have and therefore observed taylor for a long time, enough to know her habits.”

“harry styles is better for that, don’t you think?”

draco nods at fu. “but also difficult. styles does not like waldorf, at all. and whatever information she may have told styles about where my harry is, is gone.”

“what do you mean by ‘gone’?” wonders sophia.

“there’s another magical spell called obliviate. this spell, once cast, allows you to erase memories from someone’s head.” fu’s eyes widen just a little and sophia’s jaw drops. “she probably obliviated styles’ memories and, therefore, he will only remember their relationship, where they used to go, the hurt she caused, but nothing about my harry.”

“she can do that?” asks sophia, horrified. “she can’t can she? that should be illegal!”

“sadly, it’s not. it’s quite convenient.”

“why didn’t you do that and make everyone forget you tortured people’s mothers?”

“because he is not allowed to practice powerful magic in our world.”

sophia looks to fu and sinks her head onto her hand. “we’re doomed then?” she lights up immediately and turns to draco. “can’t you retrieve memories?”

draco shakes his head. “once gone, they’re gone.”

sophia sinks her head back onto her hands and fu narrows her eyes at the white blond boy seated across from them.

“have you ever obliviated harry potter’s memories?”

draco pauses, not answering fu’s question. “w-what do you mean? why would i do that to him? why would i erase his memories?”

“you’re capable of anything draco.” her voice is calm, draco notes, but her eyes are filled with slight anger and draco sighs, understanding where she is coming from. times like these he wonders whether telling his two friends the truth about himself was a good idea or if he should have kept himself to himself. but harry potter always said we need people around, people to understand us and people who knew when one wanted a warm cup of tea or a firewhiskey (the last had been directed at him).

“i did not. and also, i would never cast an obliviate spell on either of you.”

sophia smiles. “we know that, draco.” draco sighs in relief. “we’re just clarifying facts. anything interesting about taylor you’ve found?”

“nope. only that the family ring is quite valuable.”

“quite valuable?” asks sophia. “does it help us in search of harry?”

“i don’t know to be honest—”

“whatever the case is, i believe taylor hid harry potter’s soul in an object.” draco tilts his head to one side as sophia asks how fu knows that. “think about it. if voldemort split his soul and put it into several inanimate objects then taylor did the same with harry potter’s soul. also remember, she had the dark mark and was loyal to voldemort.”

“you-you believe taylor did that?” asks sophia, perplexed. she hurriedly turns to draco, asking, “do you seriously think she would do that? isn’t that harmful? you said the effects of voldemort splitting his soul was detrimental and now that she has—”

“why do you think i want to kill her so badly?” growls draco. “if i find harry—”

“when.”

“ _when_ i find harry i’m going to kill waldorf without hesitating for one second.”

“killing hurts, no matter who it is.”

“ _so_ ,” sophia interjects amidst fu and draco’s eye-daggers battle, “basically we need to find which object taylor put harry’s soul in?” she summarizes their problem in quest of finding draco’s love of his life. draco sighs loudly, slowly nodding his head. “at least we know it is in london.”

“do you know how many objects there are in london?” draco eloquently raises an eyebrow at her. “how many _millions_? even billions? no, _a_ _gazillion_? zillions of objects?”

“alright, alright,” sophia says tucking her golden hair behind her ear, “there are many. but taylor would put harry’s soul in some object she values, right? didn’t you say you could sense where he is? his environment?” draco nods. “then we use your senses and taylor’s hidden location of the object with harry’s soul to find him.”

draco sighs, leaning his head against his head, and shuts his eyes. this is going to take all of him to find his lover. but no matter, he will find him, he will find his harry, because it is always going to be harry. no matter what lifetime, what world comes in between them both, he will choose harry every single time.

“there is harry.” draco and sophia both turn spotting harry walking towards louis who is at his locker. “go talk to him.”

“about what?” questions draco and sophia, too, asks, “why?”

“you cannot say you’re his friend when you barely talk to him. he needs to know that you care about him, draco, and now is a good chance.”

“but he is with louis and—”

“since when does draco care about anyone?” teases sophia and fu smirks. she bloody smirks at him and draco cannot help but narrow his eyes at her.

“you’re only here for a short visit. don’t hurry, and be sure to smell the flower along the way.”

sophia frowns at her, trying to decrypt her cryptic one-liner but draco understands and flashes fu a smile. she sends him a small smile and then tells sophia they should head to the mathematics block.

malfoy makes his way to harry across the courtyard, hands in his dark green trousers, and hair slightly brushing his ears. louis is the first to spot malfoy then harry slowly turns to face him and liam stops beside louis and sneers at his presence.

“hi malfoy,” harry greets him, smiling widely at him. louis goes back to getting his books out of his locker and liam shoots daggers at him which he promptly ignores.

“hey, styles,” he greets back.

“what are you doing here, malfoy?” spits liam. “don’t you have someone’s mother to torture right now?”

“liam!” harry hisses.

“can i talk to you?” he asks, his voice bitter in louis’ and liam’s ears. “alone?” he adds after glaring at liam.

“ye-sure.” he bids liam goodbye, kisses louis on the lips then walks with malfoy towards the mathematics block. “who do you have maths with?” he asks malfoy as they walk out of the courtyard and head towards the entrepreneurship block.

“higher level mathematics,” he replies, his voice strategically flat. “i wanted to take ordinary mathematics but it felt a little too easy for me.”

“i don’t have a choice. i have to take it.”

“why?”

harry shrugs and they walk in silence. his hands are sweaty inside his pockets and his shirt sticking to his chest now. he looks sideways at harry who looks calm, his hair tied up in a man bun, and his silk shirtsleeves folded to the middle of his arm where his ship tattoo is.

“why did you get a tattoo of a naked mermaid?” he asks. harry lifts his arm to look at his tattoo and he lets out a small chuckle.

“it was a bet i had with niall and i lost it. since i lost the bet, niall said i had to get a tattoo of a naked, female mermaid. and ever since i’ve never touched coke.”

“you were high when you got it?” malfoy asks, incredulously.

harry nods, smiling. “i was. it was a good time, don’t get me wrong, and i don’t regret getting the tattoo. nowadays, it reminds me of the _pirates of the caribbean_ – the one with the mermaids.”

“haven’t watched it.”

“what do you mean you haven’t watched it?” asks harry in surprise. he holds his shoulder tightly, stopping malfoy in his path. “ _pirates of the caribbean_ is one of the greatest movies in the world. well, it cause of louis i’ve become obsessed with it, but honestly, it’s one of the greatest movies of this century.”

“what is it about?” he asks with a little curiously. they resume walking, malfoy subtly walking ahead so that harry’s hand falls off his shoulder. he is not much of a movie person, see. there are not many chances for movies in the wizarding world, in fact, there are no tvs. harry shakes his head, his hand smoothening his hair. “what?”

“i can’t _explain_ it to you, you have to watch it!” they pass the entrepreneurship block and now are heading to the mathematics block. several of their yearmates are heading their too as mathematics, and english, are the only courses where the entire year attends it at the same time. “what are you doing after school?”

“i—” the question catches malfoy by surprise. “sophia, fu and i are going to this new place in downtown london where they read your palms.”

harry gives him a lopsided smile. “you’re going to see a psychic?”

“don’t judge. sophia is into those kind of things and i never miss an opportunity to make fun of her for believing in that crap.”

“you don’t believe them?”

malfoy snorts. “i think they are stupid, yes. but sophia loves them and fu is, well, interested in them much like i like looking at crystal balls.”

“crystal balls?”

malfoy nods enthusiastically. “they look amazing; the purple smoke in them, how at times there is glitter and the psychic does something with their hands and the smoke changes to green, or red at times, and it’s just…”

harry looks at him from the corner of his eyes, a daze sort of look on malfoy’s face stuck there. “why do you go?” malfoy blinks at him then answers him by saying that it makes sophia happy and he loves crystal balls. harry nods. he pictures a 13-year old malfoy seated in front of a crystal ball with his eyes wide in wonder and mouth in the form of an ‘o’.

“do you have to go today?” asks harry. malfoy turns to face him before entering the mathematics block, harry trailing behind him, along with other students entering the door heading for their maths class. “i mean, can’t you go tomorrow?”

“i suppose.”

“then we can watch the _pirates of the caribbean_ with the mermaids,” glees harry. “i promise it’ll be worth it.”

“is there something magical about it?”

“the mermaids are magical. and… oh yes, there is.” he happily pokes malfoy on his back. “the fountain of youth.”

“fountain of youth?”

“yeah,” he answers, nodding at malfoy. “captain jack sparrow, and other people, are heading to the fountain of youth.”

“to be immortal?” asks malfoy, his voice blank once again.

harry startles. “yeah. how did you know?”

malfoy shrugs, stopping in front of his higher level mathematics class. “it’s pretty obvious. if you’re looking for the fountain of youth, or something that will make one youthful, then you’re afraid of death and would like to be immortal.”

harry blinks. he remains speechless at malfoy as around them their junior classmates are walking, some into malfoy’s class, some upstairs where harry’s maths class is. “how-so much-how’d you figu-you’re going to decipher the movie even before you watch it? that’s not fun!”

“didn’t you hear?” he smirks, something between cheeky and playful. “i’m a party pooper.”

“so, malfoy?” he asks, hopeful.

he takes a loud deep breath in, his eyes fixed on harry’s, then breathes out. “i’ll text you if i’m free.”

harry watches him enter his class without another word and he makes his way to his own class. on the way, he stops several times to hug girls, greet them, they flirt with him, and he walks off, many times that he ends up late for his class even if he would have been 10 minutes earlier if he headed straight to class after malfoy entered his class.

 

the principal announces there is a meeting for all the junior years after break time and everyone should attend. larry stylinson are seated together, and it is no surprise when several rows in front and behind their rows are filled with girls who want to get a closer look at larry stylinson, or rather harry while secretly despising louis for ‘stealing’ their handsome man. another usual wednesday.

“your fan club keeps growing you know,” louis teases, his eyes glancing behind his row in the auditorium. harry playful shoves him. “i mean, every time there seems to be new members but there are loyal ones… like olivia. i bet olivia is the head of your fan club. or that lizz girl,” he snickers as harry spots lizz sitting in the row in front of them to his far right. “she seems to be trying to take a photo of you but miserably failing.”

“that’s cause you keep staring at her,” harry points out. he slides down his seat, resting the back of his head on the red, cushion seat as more students of their year walk into the auditorium. “and your hand on my thigh doesn’t help her get a good photo.”

“too bad for her,” louis says, shrugging. “oh! oops, she took one. i bet she’ll crop out my hand from that photo and frame yours and stick it to her fridge.”

“stop watching _criminal minds_ , angel.”

“how could i forget penelope,” louis says as penelope walks through the large auditorium doors with her friends. she instantly spots harry and her giggling stops and smiles at harry. louis glances at his boyfriend, pointedly staring, then to penelope whose smile widens. “i like her as the president of your fan club.”

harry rolls his eyes. “how do i have only females as heads of my fan club?” penelope makes her way up the stairs. “what happened to gender equality?”

“women empowerment.”

harry cocks an eyebrow at louis. “gender equality.”

“i am the president of your fan club in the male department,” louis says, voice a little strong.

“no, you’re not. you’re my boyfriend,” harry corrects, his hand covering louis’ on his thigh. “there’s a difference.” louis smiles at him, closing the distance of their lips. “if you were the president of my fan club, what would be your slogan?”

“ysl.”

“you are my biggest fan aren’t you?” laughs harry. “how did i get so lucky?”

louis does not answer as penelope sits in front of the row where harry is seated, having chased away the girls who had been sitting there. “hi harry.”

“hello penelope,” he politely greets her. “you alright?”

louis scoots closer to harry and gently rests his head on harry’s shoulder. penelope narrows her eyes at the action, her eyes drop to where louis’ hand is on harry’s yummy thighs, watching louis’ thumb graze his thigh slowly and she swallows. she looks up to see louis’ smiling smugly and harry biting down on a laugh.

“do you know what the meeting is for?” she asks harry.

“nope i don’t—” harry begins to answer but stops when louis sighs loudly, penelope and harry both turning to look at louis. harry inwardly rolls his eyes as penelope glowers at him. “…know,” he ends.

“rumor has it that it’s about those who are getting expelled.”

“expelled? for what reason?”

she shrugs. “i don’t know. i hope it’s not you or me,” she says then glares at louis who is smiling innocently with his nose in harry’s neck, “but other people.”

“desperate much, penelope?” taylor calls out. penelope snaps her adoring eye from harry to glower at taylor, standing at the end of her row, her arms folded against her chest, with several minions standing behind her.

“i think a brawl is about to start,” louis whispers in harry’s ear.

“do you have a free lesson today?” asks harry. louis blinks several times at him, wondering what has caused the change in conversation.

“after lunch today. why?”

“let’s watch _adventure time_ together, yeah?” he suggests.

louis nods. “yeah, alright. i think we’re in episode 27 of season six.” harry brings louis’ hand from his thigh to his knuckles brushing on his own chin. harry then flattens louis’ palm and brings it to his lips. louis lays back in his chair, watching the small word fight between taylor and penelope, as harry plays with his hand on his face.

“what did malfoy want by the way?”

“he didn’t want to be around liam,” he says as he brings louis fingers to his forehead. “did you know he likes crystal balls?”

“crystal balls?” louis asks, tearing his eyes from penelope and taylor to his hand on harry’s forehead. “what do you mean crystal balls?”

“like the ones for psychics.”

“that’s… odd.”

“he doesn’t believe in them, he just likes the way they look.”

“like snow globes, too?”

harry’s eyes brighten. “yeah… yeah actually. a lot like snow globes.”

“uh oh, i know that look harry. that’s the look of ‘i’m going shopping right this second’ and i don’t like it. you buy useless stuff with—”

“name one time i bought something useless.”

“tiny teacups you’ve never used.”

“i used them once.”

“for a bloody tea party that you invited me and mckenzie for and that was the last time.” harry remains quiet, his lips brushing the side of louis’ hand. “silver foil paper.”

“i wanted to look like a pirate.”

“you bought 30 packets!” harry shrugs. “or the time you bought 10 iphone cases – same color, same patterns, same everything, all so that that poor woman in the apple shop would not get the design she wanted.”

harry laughs. “she wanted the sea iphone cases and i bought all of them so she wouldn’t have anyway. that’s was hilarious.”

“mean is more like it.”

“she said my silk shirt looked like last season’s,” he growls indignantly. “it was not last season’s and that bloody woman should’ve known better.”

“the poor woman was buying the iphone case for her daughter.”

“serves her right,” harry sulks in his seat.

“then you went ahead and bought all the iphone cases in the shop so she wouldn’t even buy one.” harry laughs under his breath at the memory. “what’s worse is you dragged trisha and i to every single apple shop that she went to and secretly bought all the iphone cases there.” harry laughs into louis’ hand, his shoulders shaking. “the entire afternoon. the poor woman had to explain to her daughter that the apple shops did not have iphone covers. at all.”

“what a terrible day, huh?” louis stares at him. “aw c’mon louis, it was funny.” louis cannot help but smile. a little. “see, you loved it, admit it, it was funny.”

“a tiny bit. i don’t get how she didn’t know it was you that was buying the cases. i mean, we were practically stalking her and buying the iphone cases before she could even pick the one her daughter wanted.”

harry laughs, bowing forward and squeezing louis’ arm. his head is leaning against the seat in front of him, trying to stifle his laughter. he turns to his left, his head leaning against the seat, his eyes crinkled and chuckling.

“did you see her face at like the 50th apple shop when she whined that iphone cases were selling like hot cakes?” he jokes, his smile never faltering. “and-and she—” his words are cut short by a sudden burst of laughter. “and she still did not get the iphone covers in that shop either!”

“what did you ever do with all those covers, by the way?” he asks out of curiosity.

“well, half of them i gave to trisha and i wonder what she did with them. the rest are in the attic.”

“and you gave fizzy like 45 of them. _forty-five!_ ”

“she loved them, too.”

“you spoil her, you know.”

the principal walks in and taps the microphone, asking everyone to be seated. he tunes out the principal, relying on harry to listen and ask him later what the principal had said. his eyes lazily scan the auditorium. in front of them is penelope (looks like she had won) and her friends, to his left are more random girls who keep glancing his way to look at harry, same goes for those girls seated several rows in front of him.

his eyes fall on a white blond head and immediately knows it is draco malfoy. he does not understand why harry cannot find someone else to be friends with, why it is malfoy, but then he remembers that malfoy took his membership of toarechosen and by befriending malfoy, he will get back his membership.

this is a brilliant idea but he is getting a bad feeling about this. malfoy, from the gossip, rumors, half-truths and truths, is not one to be _friends_ with. malfoy does not do friendships, only acquaintances. somehow, though,  he questions the tales of malfoy’s past because the new malfoy has friends: sophia and the chinese girl who seems to always be walking as if her body is being held by a string. so far, malfoy has not tortured anyone like in the so many of the stories he has had have narrated.

he is a big believer in second chances but… change? he probably does not believe in change. yes people change, yes people get second chances but for someone to change so much after a second chance? it seems doubtful, the whole thing.

he wants to trust harry sees the change in malfoy and therefore giving him a second chance, even after what he did to anne, but harry likes to see the good in people. he likes to see the truth in people. the rest of the people like to see the bad, which when it comes to the entire school, is true.

he leans back in his seat, and his eyes dart to the ceiling of the auditorium which is a canvas of the sahara desert.  first and foremost, understanding malfoy is complex. he is the sea storms, the sandstorms, rainforest showers, he is the stars. he gets the feeling that malfoy has given hell to a lot of people, obviously with the torturing of people’s mothers, and he has not once apologized for any of his actions. apart from zayn.

somewhere in his life, malfoy had stopped for a second, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. in truth, he thinks malfoy likes the pain. he loves it, breathes it, dances in it, showers in it as if somewhere in his mind he believes he deserves the pain he is going through and he won’t stop walking through it until, somehow, he is forgiven. from whom, louis does not know. why, he does not know that either. but malfoy loves pain, lives on it and because he has so much pain on the inside, he inflicts it on other people without caring for them.

for sure if he ever looked at malfoy’s eyes, not in passing but properly looked into his grey, piercing eyes, he would see his demons hiding. the darkness in him is overpowering more than the light but somehow, seeing him be friends with sophia and the chinese girl, he wants the light now; he craves the light and that is why he has not harmed anyone yet.

the reason he has not tortured anyone’s parents, the reason he has forgiven zayn, the reason he is cordial with his boyfriend, it is all because all the decisions he had made were never right before and now, now he has a chance to redeem himself. unfortunately, nobody is seeing this because they are tainted by malfoy’s past. they care about the old malfoy, not this new one and funny enough, he does not care whether people like him or not, because he is not one to apologize.

the boy who made all the wrong choices is making the right ones now. second chances.

“harry,” he whispers. harry slowly turns to him, his eyes waiting for him to continue speaking. “what’s malfoy like?”

harry frowns at louis, his eyes searching in louis’ blue eyes. louis gazes back at him, not saying anything. he turns to look at the front, the principal talking somewhere in the background.

“malfoy is like an annoying 5-year old and a wise 50-year old at the same time,” he says his voice heavy. he squeezes louis’ hand. “i don’t know how but i’m still trying to figure that out. he has so much anger in him, whether at the world, or at himself, but over the years his anger has cost him, i can tell. i don’t know why he is back – still figuring that out – but he is and i have a feeling it has to do with someone he lost in his life.”

“malfoy is not one to say ‘i’m sorry.’ because it’s beneath him,” says louis and harry chuckles quietly.

“that’s true but we’re not all made of steel; there’s someone or somebody we open our hearts to and because of that we’re capable of saying sorry.”

a moment passes between them, the principal laughing at his own joke. then louis asks, “what else?”

“i think he spends as much time with fu and sophia as possible because the lack of company feels suffocating. he doesn’t like his company that much, which is understandable,” he says in a low voice louis might not have caught it if he was not as close to harry as he is right now. “i keep wondering why he came to the uk though. i want to ask him but i feel like he’ll lie to me so i’ll wait for it.”

“you can ask the chinese girl. or sophia.”

“fu?” asks harry and louis shrugs. “she wouldn’t tell me.”

“how do you know waiting will help?”

“because malfoy’s like snow. trust, friendship, and loyalty do come eventually like how snow melts in your hands, you need to earn it.” harry suddenly smiles and leans close to his cheek. “he loves everything morbid. somehow the concept of death fascinates him. i found it creepy at first but the way he talks about it, his eyes shining with passion, with life, you can’t help but listen as he talks about death.”

“morbid fascinations are always creepy,” louis says dryly.

“why the sudden curiousity?” 

louis shrugs and leans his head back against the seat. harry remains looking at him then turns his attention back to the principal. as soon as the principal stops talking, finally, and they are leaving heading for their fifth class, louis bids harry goodbye with a kiss, “see you at lunch!” and runs to catch up with malfoy.

“hey louis!” sophia grins, spotting him first.

“hey,” he says hugging her back. “how’re you?”

“good. what’s up?” she asks, smiling. louis wonders if there is ever a moment when she is not smiling. he looks to sophia’s right at the chinese girl – fu, he reminds himself that that is her name – who is looking at him with a neutral face and her poise elegant that she momentarily reminds him of audrey hepburn.

then there is malfoy looking at him with his piercing grey eyes, who has his head tilted to the left, his shirtsleeves folded to his elbows, hands tucked into his dark green trousers. louis wonders if there is a day when he has worn _another_ color but thinks not.

“do you have economics now?” asks louis to malfoy. sophia and fu turn to look at malfoy, cool, calm and collected as always. his lips do not move and he remains looking at louis. “i mean, right now? if you have eco-economics? the higher one. not ordinary…” he finds himself blabbering, and not noticing malfoy’s tiny smirk.

“you don’t do economics,” he says, his voice dry. “actually, you do neither business nor economics, if i’m not wrong.”

“i… i actually do ordinary economics,” louis says, surprised that malfoy knows that. “i picked it.”

“why? because styles is taking it as well?”

louis blinks several times. “no-no. i find it easier than business, to be honest. and also, you have to do either business or economics.”

“not if you cheat the system,” malfoy says, his voice rogue.

“‘cheat the system?’” he looks to a calm fu and a smiling sophia. “how do you cheat the system?” he asks, flabbergasted.

malfoy shrugs nonchalantly. “i guess it only works with the super rich kids.”

he sighs loudly as malfoy elegantly rolls his eyes. “of course.”

“you can still do it. i’m sure styles can tell you how… he was a hacker, wasn’t he?” wonders malfoy. louis frowns, thinking. “he was.”

“how do you know that?”

he shrugs, again. “he told me. now if you’d excuse me, i have higher level economics to ate—”

“i’ll walk with you.” malfoy raises a silent eyebrow at him. sophia tells malfoy that they will meet at lunch and she walks to the other side with fu. “so…” he begins as they walk towards the entrepreneurship block. “so… you like economics? why not pick business instead?”

“economics is easier.”

louis nods. “yeah. that’s what i said. i must be a genius.”

malfoy snorts. “likely not.”

louis shuts up then and they walk in silence. he peers at malfoy through the corner of his right eye. he is walking calmly, hands in his pockets, back straight, and his white blond hair softly flowing. his trousers are well-fitting and his shirt is tucked in so nicely, so _rich_ he wonders if he would pull off the look. his eyes trail up and finds malfoy looking at him, a mild frown on his face. he gulps and looks forward.

“okay, wait,” he says once they are in the entrepreneurship block on the second floor where there are the economics classes. “i… i asked to talk to you because i have a question to ask you.”

malfoy squares his shoulders. “what?”

“what brought you back to the uk?” he asks. he forces himself to hold malfoy’s gaze. silence grows between them despite the chattering of students all around them. he almost opens his mouth to repeat the question when malfoy answers him.

“waldorf.”

“taylor waldorf?” inquires louis. he nods curtly. “why wou–is she the–no!” he gasps. his eyes grow wide and inhales a lungful of air. “she lifted the ban? she’s the one!?” malfoy remains silent. “she is though? why would she? she despises you!”

“everyone does, tomlinson.”

louis cannot hear any malice in his voice of exasperation, only flatness. “not harry.”

malfoy rolls his head back, stretching his neck. “what do you want, tomlinson? i’m pretty sure you didn’t walk me all this way just to ask me why i take economics.”

“harry is trying to be your friend, so hard, at times i tease him for trying too hard,” he says, smiling mostly to himself. “but he still does, damned be the bans that niall and taylor put on him for talking to you, damned be the people reminding him of what you did to his mother, damned be the entire world, he still wants your friendship.”

malfoy tilts his head to the left. louis swallows. malfoy’s stare is intense, never wavering, but piercing right through him he shivers despite himself.

“harry sees the good in people and that’s where i come in. i see the truth in people and i almost see the truth in you: i see someone who is learning what ‘sorry’ means and is having a hard time uttering those words. i see someone who is unapologetic, someone who can be utterly egoistical one moment, utterly nice the next minute because he simply does not care what anyone thinks of him.” he takes a deep breath then opens his eyes. “please don’t hurt my boyfriend.”

“why would i hurt him?”

despite hearing the surprise tainting malfoy’s voice, louis can never be too sure. it is malfoy after all. “you’ve hurt him before, you can do it again.”

“i thought you said i’m learning how to say ‘sorry’?”

“you only say sorry to those who’ve earned your respect, trust, friendship and loyalty. harry has neither.”

“he has friendship and respect.”

“does he?” louis challenges. “he’s tried so many times to be your friend but you keep rejectin—”

malfoy interjects. “earlier, you said that styles sees the good in people?” louis blinks at him, confused at the sudden change in conversation. “that’s not true. he sees the truth, just like you, but he does not like to see the bad in people and he treats everyone with the kindness of his heart regardless of how cruel they were to him. styles gives people his heart and they push it aside and that’s what fucks him up every time.”

“that’s why i said you can hurt him again and i don’t want you, too,” he almost shouts. malfoy smirks. he takes one large step and hovers slightly above him, seeing as he is one of the tall boys in their school. they remain like that, malfoy staring into louis’ alarmed eyes and he wondering why he even bothered to talk malfoy in the first place.

“you think i’ll torture his mother again?” he taunts, his voice nothing but malice. “you think that i’ll make sure mrs styles’ kidney acts up again? if i do, styles will not be able to give his kidney seeing as he has one left. or maybe because i’m bored, i’ll go for his sister. make her scream as i twist and turn her hand back until i hear a crack? or cracks?”

“you’re sick.” he means to shout but it comes off as a whisper.

“no, you’re the sick one, tomlinson. you’ve hated my guts ever since i came to this school. remember film class when you and liam ganged up on me? when you shouted insults at me?”

“you deserved them, draco.”

“don’t call me draco,” he snarls loudly. some students startle to look at them and turn the other way after seeing who it is. “perhaps i did deserve them, but _you_ had no right. you don’t know me. you’ve never heard of me apart from the gossip and stories that people say about me. your fooking two-faced piece of ass insulted me without getting to know me and all this talk about figuring me out?” he bitterly scoffs. he takes  a step back, sneering at him. “forget it, tomlinson. stop wasting your time and go figure out the truth about your boyfriend because that’s what you do, isn’t it? figure people out like a mathematical problem instead of getting to _know_ them.” he leans forward, his lips close to louis’ ear. “do me a favour, love, and go fuck yourself.”

louis is rooted to the spot, too stunned to move. the scent of mint lingering in the air is all there is left. he draws his eyes to malfoy standing at the door, glaring at him. “you don’t get to tell me what i can and cannot do to styles, tomlinson. you don’t own him, contrary to some stupid notion you have in your head. what happens between me and him is between _me and him_ because we’re friends. you and i are nothing to each other.” he stops and smiles at him, if smiles could kill it would be the one malfoy has on now. “and _do_ go fuck yourself.”

“fine you’re right, i do figure people out like math problems. so i want to know you.”

he shakes his head. “did you not hear me? i said go fuck yourself!”

“you won’t give me the chance to know you?”

“you didn’t give _me_ a chance to introduce myself instead you believed everyone’s stories.”

“i’m so—”

malfoy scowls and slams the door shut loudly in his face.

 **=     =     =     =**  


liam turns to look behind him, sighs, and turns back to eating his sandwich. “if you keep staring at malfoy like that you could melt him with the fire in your eyes.”

“he’s an imbecile!” louis growls.

“what’s with the sudden anger at him? so far, you didn’t care about him,” says liam, treading carefully. “and now you’re all hot and heavy because of him? what happened?”

“what didn’t happen!” trisha pipes in. “malfoy told louis to fuck off.”

liam gapes at trisha, then to louis who is still glaring at malfoy across the cafeteria. “why did he do that?”

“because he’s a jerk! he told me not to tell him what to do with harry. he practically told me off.”

“what do you mean ‘what to do with harry’? that sounds fishy to me.”

“he’s in my economics class,” trisha says, leaning forward. “and when he entered you could tell he was angry. he sits in front of me and he got out his phone, texting i don’t know who, then put his phone away and it’s as if all the anger just swept away from him.”

“weird,” murmurs liam. “who was he texting?”

trisha shrugs. “i couldn’t see. plus, it’s not like i would’ve asked him. i can’t afford to get a ban because i’m talking to either malfoy, sophia or the chinese girl.”

“fu.”

“what?” asks trisha.

“her name is fu,” louis supplies.

“how do you know that?” inquires liam.

“harry.”

“that’s an odd name. is she japanese?”

“i think it’s philippines.”

louis supplies, yet again, “chinese.”

“she’s always wearing long skirts,” trisha comments, giving her food attention. “have you ever seen her in something short? or even knee-length?”

“why are you concerned about her clothing?” wonders liam. “she can wear whatever she wants. plus she is nice.”

“she is?” both trisha and louis ask. liam looks to louis then trisha. “how do you know?” asks trisha.

“we’re in the same higher level it class,” he says, calmly, “and she showed me some cyber forensic thing i had a hard time with. easy peasy. someone as nice as her shouldn’t be hanging out with the likes of malfoy.”

“what about malfoy?” asks harry, sitting at their lunch table, mckenzie joining them too.

“hi k!” trisha greets. “please tell me you’re coming to my lips party this friday?”

“sure,” mckenzie nods. “though i don’t know why you called it that.”

“harry said it’d be a catchy name,” trisha whines.  liam and mckenzie both laugh. “what? what’s so funny?”

“never listen to harry’s party themes,” liam chuckles. “you’ll never have anyone coming to your party.”

“oi!” harry calls out, flicking a cashew nut at liam.

“but harry has loads and loads of people attending his parties with all his themes and everything.”

“that’s cause harry can get away with it,” mckenzie says, taking a sip of her water. “plus it’s sort of a harry thing to have odd themes for his parties.”

harry rolls his eyes and turns to louis. “what about malfoy?”

louis also tunes out the other’s conversation. “just that you were right about him being angry. angry at himself, at the world, at everything.”

“did something happen after the auditorium announcement?” asks harry. he digs his fork into his rice salad. “you were asking about him, and then rushed to talk to him…”

“does he trust you?” asks louis, gazing at his boyfriend. harry shakes his head. “friendship? loyalty? anything?”

“we’re going to watch _pirates of the caribbean_ after school,” says harry, informing him on his developing friendship with malfoy. “he texted me during fourth period.” that was during economics, if louis is not mistaken. whoever malfoy had been texting during economics must have been harry. “and i promise to drool over johnny depp on your behalf.”

louis chuckles. “he’s mine.”

“because beckham and guardiola are so much hotter?” harry rolls his eyes. “please! johnny depp outshines all the rest.”

“are you two talking about football?” asks liam.

“no!”

“i heard the name ‘guardiola,’” says liam looking at louis.

“not football related,” he says. he then turns to harry. “i don’t know if he was lying, or not because he did not outright say it but i think taylor lifted the uk ban.”

“taylor?” asks harry, his fork of rice frozen halfway to his mouth. “taylor _taylor_?” harry shakes his head. “can’t be. she’s the _last_ person who would want malfoy back in the uk.”

“but what if, just _what if_ , it is taylor?” asks louis. “i mean there is a possibility that she’s the one to lifted the ban.”

“for what? she’s practically scared of malfoy. she doesn’t give him bans, she doesn’t confront him like everyone else; she basically avoids malfoy as much as she can. runs from him if she so much as spots him.”

“enemies closer and all that shit,” says louis dryly.

harry holds louis’ arm. “i love you, you know that. and half the time you’re usually right—”

“—usually?—”

“—but not this time. i’d believe it’s niall who lifted the ban more than taylor.”

“fine,” louis says, with some sort of finality in his voice. “i’ll prove to you that taylor lifted the ban on the malfoy family.”

“i’d like to see you try,” coos harry, then kisses his cheek. “how come you’re not eating your sandwich?”

louis looks down to his full sandwich. “there was a roach inside.”

harry makes a face. he then pushes louis tray away from him and pushes his own to settle between them both. louis quizzically looks at him. “we’re sharing.”

“no, harry. you’ve barely eate—”

“i ate way too many cashew nuts before coming for lunch,” grins harry. “so i’m half-full. you, on the other hand, are not going to have,” – he glances to louis’ tray – “crisps and a small cup of banana yoghurt. and no water?” he sighs loudly, taking one of his water bottles (he always has two for lunch) and places it in front of his boyfriend. “with water.”

“harry, you—”

“please,” he pleads, his voice quiet. “it would make me happy, angel.” louis half-heartedly glares at him, then takes the fork off his hands. harry beams, planting kisses along his scruff jaw. “thank you.”

“why rice salad?”

“because rice is delicious.”

“who eats rice with a fork?” louis asks and harry hands him a tiny spoon that is meant for his banana yoghurt. “no one in history has ever eaten rice salad with a _tea_ spoon!”

“you keep making excuses for not eating and i will literally shove rice down your throat.”

“feisty,” louis murmurs. he digs the fork into the rice salad, not preparing to eat it, just play with the rice, the lettuce, and the large purple and orange stuff he does not know what they are. “it tastes funny.”

“you haven’t taken a bite.”

“salad is meant for rabbits. do i look like a rabbit?” he rhetorically asks as he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. “are you saying my two front teeth are bigger than the rest of my teeth? are you calling me ugly?”

“rabbits are not ugly.”

“they _are_. and scary.”

“scary?” he asks, mild interest in the conversation and the other eyeing louis digging the fork in the rice salad. “how are they scary?”

“their evil eyes.”

harry groans. louis is just beginning his tale of whatever-it-is and he sighs, resting his cheek on his hand, his eyes half-closed at louis as he goes on, and on about how evil rabbit’s eyes are.

  
=     =     =     =  


“i thought you said we’re watching that movie with that guy you love,” drawls malfoy, seating in harry’s cushioned home theatre.

“johnny depp.” and harry sighs, for probably the 30th time since they arrived at his mansion after school. “like i said before, we can’t watch it because, once again, like i said, i’ve come up with another movie that is better _and_ it has magic—before you ask… again.”

malfoy narrows his eyes at him. he has his arms crossed on his chest, his feet crossed like a pretzel. “what kind of movie is named _hotel transylvania_?”

“the best.”

“humph!”

harry groans. he takes a bite of caramel popcorn and munches on it as he says, “you’ll love it, malfoy. you like magic don’t you?” malfoy simply grunts. “see!”

“start the bloody thi—what the hell is this?” malfoy asks, startled at what he had picked off harry’s bowl and munched on it.

“caramel popcorn.”

“ugh,” malfoy pours back the caramel popcorns in his hand into the large bowl, “stick to the original: butter or salt.”

“and sugar,” harry adds and presses play on the remote. he grabs a handful of popcorns into his hand, and eats them slowly, as malfoy leans his back against the cushion wall.

“we’re watching _hotel transylvania_ two?” inquires malfoy. “why not watch the first one?”

“not that relevant,” murmurs harry munching on his delicious popcorns.  draco mutters under his breath. “what now, malfoy?”

“nothing… it’s a wedding?”

“yeah. johnny and mavis are getting married. johnny is human and mavis is a vampire,” explains harry. “and today is their wedding day. oh, if i start crying, it’s just that i.” he sniffs, the wedding scene making him feel emotional. “weddings make me want to cry.”

malfoy’s mouth parts a little then shuts it quickly. “it’s just a movie, styles, not real life. and it’s animation, on top of that.”

“weddings are weddings,” he tells him levelly.

as the movie continues, harry tearing at the wedding scene in the movie, he munches on the caramel popcorn as malfoy promptly had decided on not eating them, not even one. at the cute times, such as when mavis and johnny’s son, dennisovich, talks, harry coos, aww’s and grips malfoy’s arm tightly in awe. malfoy tries to pry him off his expensive shirt but fails as harry lays his head on his shoulder, cooing at how cute and adorable dennisovich’s orange curls are.

“it’s literally just hair,” drawls malfoy. “not cute.”

“but look at all that _orange_ ,” he gushes, his eyes ogling at the gigantic screen. “it’s so orange, and i bet it’s fluffy and—”

“so basically the kid is a wuss?” wonders malfoy, then lets out a low chuckle. “he’s such a wuss when he’s meant to be a vampire.”

“dennisovich’s a _half_ vampire,” corrects harry, his tone indicating he is offended at his favourite character being called a wuss. “and he’s not a wuss, he’s one of the bravest kids i—”

“he’s five, styles. and if a five-year old is the only person who you know to be brave, then we have a problem.”

harry lightly punches his arm and ignores the glowering face he gives him. he takes a mouthful of popcorn, purposefully crunching loudly to annoy him, which works because malfoy’s sends daggers to the side of his head. with a half-empty bowl of popcorn, and the movie well into itself, he gives malfoy a sideway glance when he does not hear a grunt or a click of his tongue when he loudly munches on his popcorns. instead, malfoy’s eyes are glued to the screen, watching the scene where dennisovich is flung off a tower by his grandfather, and his body is relaxed; his back is not stiff, his shoulders relaxed and his face not as tense as it always is.

he pushes the bowl of the popcorn closer to malfoy and he smiles back at the screen. suddenly, he remembers what malfoy looks like: like a child watching fireworks for the first time, seeing so much light, all at one go. or the child who watches a giant cake being wheeled in front of him, never having eaten it before, and he is told that he gets to eat a bite, and he gets jumpy and excited and he cannot _wait_ to eat cake.

“so stupid they’re climbing up on the wooden, creaky tower,” huffs draco. he makes a vague motion with his hand, his eyes still glued on the screen. “how will falling down the tall tower help dennisovich get his vampire fangs?”

“he’s five so i think his grandpa is worried he never will,” murmurs harry. from the corner of his eye he sees malfoy quickly munch on a caramel popcorn. he covers his mouth with his hand from cheering loudly and notify him on what he is doing.

“that green blobby thing should be banned from the hotel. and the movie,” he adds as an afterthought.

“the blob is the life of the movie.”

“it serves no purpose.”

“he’s a monster, that’s purpose enough.” he turns his head back to the screen. “like see, when their car is wrecked he has the scooter.”

“scooter?” asks malfoy, grunting under his breath. “that big guy, then the mummy guy and the invisible guy are all going to fit in that tiny scooter, _and_ the green blob, too? no wonder some movies are animation and not with human characters.”

“sometimes humans suck,” comments harry. draco rolls his eyes in response, his eyes glued to the enormous screen. “also, frankenstein in real life would be pleasant to everyone,” it is harry’s voice to drawl now. “that’ll be the day.”

“it would,” malfoy smiles, looking at him. he munches on one caramel popcorn and harry does not comment on it, letting his new friend be.

as the movie comes to an end, malfoy has a ghost smile on his face but it immediately turns to a scorn when harry turns to face him.

“you loved it didn’t you?” teases harry, smiling widely. “you loved it. admit it, you have a soft spot for dennisovich!”

“he’s still a wuss, but a wuss with fangs now,” drawls draco. he clears his throat, his head bowed slightly. “do-do you have another movie we can watch?”

harry blinks. “i don’t have the first one, if that is what you’re asking for.”

“it doesn’t have to be animation,” he tells harry. harry turns to the cushion wall where there is a touch screen with options of movies that are available. “comedy, of course.”

“i have several….” harry busies himself with tapping the touch screen on the wall.

“i trust your choices, even if they are horrible,” he says dryly. harry swallows his smile. he just told harry he _trusts_ his choices, even if it is just movies, it means something to harry. and of course, malfoy is not one to admit such things to him, much less anyone. save for sophia and fu, he thinks. “what’s this?”

harry sits back as the home screen plays _she’s funny that way_. “it’s _she’s funny that way_ and it’s a romcom. it’s odd comedy, not the kind where you laugh rolling on the floor, a little dry humour, but there are times when it’s funny, but not roaring funny but enough to chuckle, even laugh, but loudly—” he stops to find malfoy looking at him, unblinking. “what?”

“you’re babbling and it’s bothersome.”

harry presses his lips to a tight line. they both turn to face the screen and watch the movie as it plays. he reaches into the bowl of popcorn and malfoy begins his mocking at the characters. harry does his fair share of rolling his eyes, defending the character’s actions, and they fall into silence, before malfoy begins scorning again. if harry is being honest, he does not mind, mostly because he has seen the movie before, but because malfoy’s commentary makes the movie funnier than it actually is.

“you’ve never had indian?” he asks malfoy. a scene plays with glow, a call girl, and arnold, a married man, are going on a date before they sleep together, to an indian cuisine. “what do you mean you’ve never had indian?”

malfoy vaguely shrugs. “never found myself wanting to have indian cuisine.”

“you must tell fu to make indian for you,” says harry, “or sophia. it’s delicious.”

“i don’t do well with chilli,” he says, his voice hushed. “my tongue burns easily even before i eat.”

“who eats chilli?”

“there’s too much chilli in indian cuisines,” malfoy insists. his eyes are locked to the home screen, avoiding harry’s boring stare. he picks up two caramel popcorns and that is the end of that conversation. “this old man should give up on the prostitute he had before. he should get over glow.”

“maybe glow was amazing,” grins harry. “and if you’ve tasted chocolate, you never want anything else.” malfoy snarls at him. “or whatever you like.”

“there’s nothing about women giving up their bodies for sex,” says malfoy sternly.

harry sighs loudly than he needs to. “i feel like this is going to go into some huge argument about women and whatnot and to be fair, we’re in the middle of a movie so i’ll let it slide.” he chuckles slightly. malfoy raises an eyebrow at him in question. “it’s… it’s just that louis would find it hard to believe i passed up a chance to talk about women in the sense of professionalism.”

malfoy simply nods and they go back watching _she’s funny that way_. “wait… so she’s an actress? the call girl is an actress?”

“yeah, she’s trying to make money as she gets her big break.”

“and she slept with the director to get her role?” he scowls. “typical.”

“she didn’t know he was the director to the play she auditioned for,” states harry, clarifying malfoy’s comment. “and she did not sleep her way to the top, hence the scenes of her talking to the weird therapist.”

“who isn’t helping her,” he snorts.

“agreed.”

**=     =     =     =**

“your closet is hideous!”

harry rolls his eyes standing behind malfoy. after the movie, he abruptly asked harry to see his walk-in, gigantic closet. harry shrugged at the suggestion, loosely wondering if malfoy wanted fashion advice. he snorted at the idea because malfoy will not ask anyone for fashion advice, it is _beneath_ him and besides, he dresses well, if harry grew a pair and admitted it. but he was the king of fashion… sue him.

malfoy turns to face him, hands on his hips. “do you even _like_ clothes? your entire closet is filled with rubbish.”

“it’s not rubbish,” harry finds himself defending his continuous walk-in closet. he walks to where he has his shirts from ysl. “these are custom-made, expensive ysl shirts that only i, in this entire world, have. these right here,” he points to rows of silk shirts, “are—”

“old and outdated?” finishes malfoy his eyes traveling down the rows of silk shirts. “do you have anything from _this_ century?”

harry knows he should not be bothered by malfoy’s pathetic insults about his fashion choice, but he _is_. he is triggered. “i dress for myself, thank you.” he darts his glance to his collection of dapper, expensive suits to his far right. “i also don’t buy clothes in fashion, or are on runways because that isn’t style. style lasts longer than trends, after all.”

“style expires as well,” malfoy drawls heading to the collection of suits. “but no need to dress like you’re in the 1870s. i mean, marie-antoinette would be  appalled.”

“because i get fashion advice from an old lady.” he holds malfoy’s gaze and rolls his eyes hard. “besides, didn’t she have sex with her son?”

“and you emulate her as your fashion idol.”

“like your closet is any better,” harry says pointedly. “i bet all you have in your closet is—” he briefly glances at malfoy’s outfit – white button up folded to his elbows, forest green pants and loafers – and then his icy blond hair that delicately hangs over his forehead and eyebrows. “green pants. and blazers,” he adds, remembering the two times malfoy wore a blazer instead of his usual button-up shirts. “and boring one-colored shirts.”

“these are classics. these,” he points to his cream button-up, “will never go out of style, even if i live to see the 25th century.”

“2416,” harry says, “what a time it’ll be to be alive.”

“with me there, it will,” he adds haughtily.


	72. 0.71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and louis talk of the future.

** **

> **i’ve often found that changing your path and taking a new one isn’t wrong, nor right.**

 

“but it’s not monday,” harry says to his doncaster boyfriend on a friday at five-fifteen in the late afternoon.

“so?”

“ _so_ it’s not facemask day,” he says pointedly. he folds his arms, standing in the middle of his spacious, white-wall bathroom with far too many mirrors. “it’s date night today.”

“sure,” louis agrees. he picks the mango facemask off the cabinet and walks to where harry is sitting on the marble stone near the large bathtub. “but who doesn’t want to look good for date night?”

harry snorts-chuckles. “you’re meant to do all this _before_ date night, like normal couples do.”

“we’re not normal couples,” says louis. he lifts the mango facemask with his left hand and in his right hand he is holding a peppermint facemask. “pick one.”

harry sighs in defeat. “peppermint.”

“really?” asks louis in surprise. apart from bananas, his boyfriend is largely obsessed with mangoes. “but you love mangoes.”

“true but i want to feel my face burn just like peppermint gum burns my gums when i chew it.”

“you too?” louis squirts a dollop of the facemask onto his three fingers. “i thought i was the only one who hated that feeling.” harry nods as he shuts his eyes. he feels a cold, chilly feeling on his forehead as louis applies it to his face. “what’s your favourite gum flavour?”

“has to be bubblegum mint.”

“your favourite bubblegum flavour is bubblegum mint?” questions louis in disbelief, smearing more peppermint facemask on harry’s face. “do you know how odd that is?”

“that’s cause banana flavoured went off the markets.”

“eurgh!”

harry opens his eyes and pokes louis’ stomach in protest. “it was delicious, angel. you should’ve tried it when it was still in the markets. during the holidays whenever i headed west, i’d stop by venezuela to buy them, almost filling a whole suitcase.”

he squirts more peppermint onto his fingers. “obsessed much?”

harry shrugs. “not so much. but then it got really awkward during security checks so i sort of had to stop buying so much.”

“because a suitcase full of gum isn’t suspicious at all?” louis jokes. “and anyway, i thought you rick folks don’t go through security checks like basic, normal human beings?”

harry chuckles, his shoulders shaking and rolling his eyes internally seeing as his eyes are currently shut. the smell of peppermint comes off stronger as louis’ fingers reach his nose, and below. “some shitty airlines ask us to but, thankfully, most don’t. i don’t fly with those,” he adds snootily. 

“ooh, well the rest of us don’t have much choice,” louis says. “all done.”

“yep, my face _is_ burning,” he says. he gets up from the marble stone seat near the bathtub and louis takes his place. “blueberry?” louis nods enthusiastically. “y’know i have _other_ flavours of facemasks to try out, not just blueberry.”

“but blueberry is the best,” insists louis. he lifts his legs off the floor and sits like a pretzel. “besides, the last time you convinced me to try a new facemask, i felt itchy for an entire week. people at school thought i had herpes.”

harry laughs. he remembers that time. louis even shaved his facial hair in an attempt to make the itchiness stop but it somehow made it worse. it was only when it got to wednesday that harry got worried and took him to the family doctor to check what was wrong with him. apparently, louis is allergic to strawberries.

“and this entire time it’s because you were allergic to strawberries,” says harry, shaking his head. “and here i thought my facemasks were expired or something.”

“you would’ve made sure that the company shut down, asshead,” louis says at harry’s fingers spread the blueberry facemask on his face. harry smirks proudly because that is exactly what he would have done. “thank goodness that didn’t happen.”

“serves them right for making my angel ill.”

louis’ cheeks burn. “it was just a rash. no big deal, butterfly.”

“you never took your fingers off your face,” points out harry, “nor did you stop scratching and scratching. plus you had to shave your beard.” harry leans forward, his warm breath ghosting on louis’ lips. “i love your beard, one of my favourite things about you.”

“you just like beard burns in between your thighs.”

he bites down on his bottom lip. “and on you.”

“hmm. sure. thigh-burns fetish.” next thing louis feels are not harry’s fingers spreading the facemask on his cheeks but harry’s lips. “hmm.”

“you never did say your favourite bubblegum  flavour.”

“chocolate.”

“there is chocolate gum?” asks harry, surprised.

“yep. there is this shop that used to be near my old house that sold it but now since we moved, i sometimes go back there, buy 10 packs and make the last for weeks before i have to go back.”

“all because of chocolate gum?”

“have you ever had chocolate gum?” asks louis, popping one eye open to look at his boyfriend. the boyfriend spreads the facemask across louis’ jawline, silently. “i thought so. once we’re done, i’ll give you one to taste.”

“alright.”

  
**=      =    |   =      =**

“i thought chocolate bubblegum would taste bad,” harry says, chewing the bubblegum that louis has given him. “but it really isn’t bad. it tastes like a chocolate milkshake.”

“see? it’s worth it.”

“not that worth it that you have to go back to where you used to live where it smelled like burnt tyres constantly.”

louis rolls his eyes. “not as bad as flying to venezuela and stuffing a suitcase full of bubblegum.” louis falls back on the fluffy bed sheets and duvets that the both of them have made on the floor of one of the styles mansion’s many, many, many rooms. “there should be an alcoholic gum.”

“wine, please.”

louis grimaces. “ew! more like guinness.”

“eurgh,” harry sneers. he is sitting cross legged on the floor of bed sheets and duvets, shirtless, as he ties his hair up in a bun. “ _beer?_ beer bubblegum? who even are you?”

louis spreads his legs and arms on top of them fluff of white. “an awesome dj who will one day deejay at tomorrowland.”

harry’s smile drops. “what? what do you mean a dj?”

“uh…” louis looks like a deer caught in the headlights. he presses his lips in a tight line, looking everywhere but at his boyfriend.

“you’re a fooking dj, louis?” squawks harry, hitting louis’ thigh. “what the fook?”

“ow! that hurt, assy.”

“assy? that’s new.” 

“i haven’t been a dj for a long time,” explains louis, turning his head to the right so that he can gaze up at his boyfriend, his muscular arms, his tattoos up and down his left arm (though not as much as his own sleeve tattoo), and not forgetting just the ooze of harry. “it started when i was in the second year and it was at some house party that liam dragged me to. the dj apparently blacked out somewhere and liam said i should play something, i said no, he said i could, and mind you this entire time there was no music playing, so then i shrugged, and played a few house tracks and i guess that was it.”

“fook,” harry breathes, “this entire time you’ve been a dj and you’ve never thought to mention it? not once?”

“it never came up?” he tries lamely.

“we’ve been dating for 9 months, how does that not come up?”

“i don’t make a big deal out of it because it’s _not_ a big deal.”

“not a big deal? not a big deal, louis?” he briefly stares at louis, his eyes bulging out. “you’ve got to be kidding me. do you know how amazing this is? do you know how a big of a deal this is and you’re trying to keep it hushed down? louis, you don’t realize how big this is. and you said that hopefully next year you would play at tomorrowland? isn’t that every dj’s fantasy?

louis shrugs. “mama thinks it’s a waste of time. and dan agrees with her. that’s why the less people know about it, the better for me.”

“but you love deejaying, i can tell,” he says, his hold on louis’ arm tightening. “i can see the light in your eyes when you talk about it, i don’t know, you seem alive.”

“what about other days?”

harry ignores the sarcastic comment. “and you can’t hide this. sure, your parents may not like it but it’s a business. you make money from this, right?”

“of course.”

“then i don’t see why they don’t like it?”

“it’s apparently not worthwhile,” louis says, “something about not being appropriate for today’s job market. i didn’t listen for long.”

harry swerves the conversation in another direction. “do you create your own music?” louis nods. “can i listen to it someday?”

“i have my laptop here with my music…”

“please,” harry begs. “please, please can i listen to at least one song? pretty please? or even 30 seconds of it? i promi—”

“alright, alright, styles,” he says, chuckling. “but my bag is downstairs and it’s—”

“that’s what housekeepers are for,” he says excitedly. he stands up from the fluff of duvets and bed shseets and holds out his hand for louis. “c’mon, punk boy!”

“i’m not punk.”

“you got another ear piercing on your right ear, you’re officially punk.”

louis rolls his eyes. “they’re addicting.”

“just like tats.”

they both head downstairs, louis muttering behind harry about having too many flights of stairs to walk down just to get his laptop, and he groans louder when they walk to the top floor of the styles mansion where there is the music room. it is a large, gigantic room that louis has never seen before – he swears the mansion grows more rooms each time – and the walls are made of glass, from the ceiling to the floor.

louis flattens his palms against the window, his nose pressed to it. he has a view of the front yard of harry’s mansion, the fountain red and orange lights are on at this time and it looks majestic.

the room itself is somewhat dark, save for the glow-in-the-dark stickers lined up on the high ceilings, and the light from the moon shining through the glass wall and louis wonders if this is the only room that does not have chandeliers.

“where is your music folder?” asks harry.

“this is the music room? your music room?” asks louis, his eyes mesmerized by the music room. “i don’t think i can even see the end of the room.” his eyes strain to see the end to his right side but his eyes only see darkness. “is there an ending?”

harry looks up from louis laptop to the same direction louis is looking at. “there is. you just need to turn on the lights. gemma had this room created in such a way that it created an illusion that it never ends, no matter how hard you look.” he points behind louis. “that’s what the glass walls are for.”

“what about all these?” asks louis, breathlessly. “are all these proper stereos?” his fingers brush through _this_ wall made entirely of proper stereos – some vintage others quite modern, but stereos nonetheless. some are black, others grey, brown, and there is even a baby blue one that catches louis eye.

“that’s the one that connects to all the speakers, it is the main one we’ll use to play your music.”

“fook! if i was as rich as you, i’d totally buy a house and build this room. forget bathrooms, kitchens, even bedrooms, i’d make this room my priority and i’d never get out.”

“you need to eat,” chuckles harry. louis comes behind him and types on his laptop for his music folder. he rests his chin on harry’s shoulder as his arms brush harry’s biceps typing out his dj mixes. “ _all_ these are your mixes?”

“they’re not tha—”

“you have like 500 folders on here,” gapes harry as he scrolls down looking through different folders with various names that he cannot make sense of, “and you think they aren’t many?!”

“just a couple.”

“and we’re going to play all of them.”

“all?” gawks louis, his mouth hanging. “we can’t play all my mixes. the shortest mix i have – in the bang folder – is 30 minutes.” harry squawks at him. “yep, i have songs that are more than 30 minutes at a go because i’m crazy like that.” he sighs, clicking a few times on his laptop now that it is on his lap. “but i’ll show you my recent ones?”

harry nods. “i’d love that.”

“do i need to give you a flash disk to connect?”

harry shakes his head. “just connect your laptop to bluetooth – it’s called cheshire cat – and you can then play from your laptop.”

“cheshire cat?”

“gemma’s obsession with cats.”

the hour passes with louis playing his music. the sounds fill the room in the sense that every inch of the room, from the walls, to the ceiling, even the ground, feels as if it is playing his songs. it is not loud in a screechy manner but loud enough that you feel as if the music is floating in your body off the carpet floor and staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling as if watching your worries flow away.

“this is bloody amazing!” harry cries happily. “i’m not much of a house person but this—this is incredible. and does this song have some classical tones in it?”

“some of my recent mixes does have a combination of classical music and house. i thought i’d put in a new variety in what i play.”

harry raises an eyebrow at louis. “but you hate classic music.”

louis smiles at him, shy. “someone convinced me that it isn’t bad to listen to – unless you remix the classical song then it’ll be worthwhile.”

“i do not approve of remixes of beethoven – because perfection can’t be tampered with – but this one is just.” harry is at a loss of words. he has never been a music person except for classical and anything on the radio but right now he thinks he understands when people always say they cannot live without music. “can i keep some of them?” he asks him softly.

louis pins his chin on harry’s shoulder. “sure. you can have them all if you want.”

“wouldn’t you be scared i’d sell your music or something like that?”

“least i’d know my music is worth shit.” harry presses pause on the current song and the music room falls to a sudden silence. harry turns to face him – his chin off harry’s shoulder – and holds his gaze. “stop looking at me like that.”

“can we be serious for a second,” he says calmly but in a tone that tells louis he ought to listen carefully to harry’s words. it is often rare that harry and louis engage in serious talks.

they do engage in serious talks about their future, their relationship, and at times, why each of them believe that sexism should not exist in this decade. they are rare because so far, their relationship has been that of survival – they have been trying to make things work, making sure that no one, that is taylor and niall, breaks them up and that has, unfortunately, been their main focus. there are those serious talks they usually have but it is often when one tells the other something that they cannot bullshit and they need to hear it. listen.

“what do you feel when you sit down and make music? what do you feel in that moment when you listen to your mix, after labouring for days on end trying to make it sound good, as well as the pressure of trying to be half as good as avicii?”

louis wants to ask how he knows avicii but shuts his mouth.

“or the first time you played your first dj show?” he continues, his voice calm but commanding in a way. somehow, with harry’s slow speaking it always sounds like melting caramel. louis finds himself slowly smiling at the first time he got on stage, wore his headphones and rocked the show with his songs. “i bet you’ve never felt alive then. you enjoyed every single minute of it because it was wonderful.”

“yeah but…” he trails. his gaze lost in the sea of sprite-colored bottles in his boyfriend’s eyes looking back at him intimately.

“you can’t waste your talents just because someone says you’re bad at it, or it’s not good for you; you need to continue doing what you want because it’s your life, angel.”

“it’s not worth the trouble, butterfly.”

“it’s your passion, louis,” he stresses on his name, “simple as that. it’s the passion, the rush, the sense of bliss you get when you are a dj that makes everything else irrelevant.” silence stretches between them with louis’ bottom lip stuck between his teeth. “you just need a plan on how to convince johannah that being a dj is a good thing. she’ll come around then.”

“not the money i make, not the recommendations i get, not even the places i play at does she come around.”

“you forget that i’ve tried years to get my father to blink my way but ended up getting admiration from everyone else’s parents?” he says, for the first time without bitterness. “so i know a thing or two about manipulation.”

“scheming has never been my thing.”

“you just need to show johannah that you can balance your school work and your dj work,” he says, “that’s probably what is worrying her right now.”

“never thought of it that way,” thinks louis, “i always thought maybe it’s the fact that i am a dj that is the problem.”

“has she ever listened to any of your mixes? attended your shows? which, by the way, how come _i’ve_ never been invited?”

“because you didn’t know i was a dj?” he tries meekly but harry stares back at him, blankly. “i’m playing my next gig next week saturday, you can come.”

harry presses his lips on louis’ temple. “thank you, angel. and speaking of, this entire time you’ve been a dj and there was that one time when i was frustrated i couldn’t find a dj for my party and you didn’t volunteer?”

louis sheepishly shrugs. “it didn’t cross my mind at all. i swear i would’ve said something.”

“in that case, for my next party, you’ll be my—”

“absolutely not.” he presses play on his laptop and the music room is once again filled with the works of louis.

“why not?” asks harry, turning off the music.

“because you’re my boyfriend.”

“and?”

“it’ll be weird working for you,” says louis. he presses play on his laptop. harry presses pause and shifts the laptop away from louis’ fingers when he tries, again, to press play. “plus i’ll want to be with you at the party, not turning tables and wondering when it’s my turn to get _drunk_.”

“i’ll pay you triple of what you earn generally.” louis looks at him. “ok. five times.” louis eyebrows raise past his fringe. “fifteen times what you earn for a show.” louis’ leans forward, his eyebrows rising and his eyes bulging. “thirty times what you earn.”

louis gawks, his mouth on his lap. “that’s insane. i’ll still say no even if you say you’ll pay me 99 times more than what i earn.”

“deal.”

“wh-what? no! i was joking, styles,” he says, laughing bopping in his throat. “harry styles, i will not be a dj at your party.”

“why not? you’re insanely talent, and to be fair i don’t know what or who is in right now in the music industry and you do, a lot, and you’d be a total hit.”

“i don’t play for snobby rich kids with far too many designer cars,” louis says smugly. harry manages to laugh and rolling his eyes.

“i only have a handful of designer cars,” he says. “plus, you’ll be having the time of your life. and don’t try to deny it.”

louis gives in. “when’s your party?”

the smile harry gives him is blinding. “when are you available?”

“has to be on a weekend,” louis says. “so, either saturday or sunday and i know you only have your legendary parties at night so either saturday or sunday night.” he pokes his index finger just above his butterfly tattoo on his stomach. “you are not paying me 99 times more than what i earn.”

“too late,” he says pecking louis’ lips. he kisses him again, deeply. his hand slowly comes to the back of louis’ neck and tugs on louis’ hair. harry pulls him closer, closer, and kisses, kisses, kisses, and kisses him until his lips are numb. “deal?”

“yeah,” he breathes, his eyes in a daze. he bites on his bottom lip and shuts his eyes slowly as the hand on his neck massages his scalp. a moment passes before a warm breath tingles on his lips and a tongue licks his lip. he opens his mouth and the tongue traces his own tongue. he lunges forward, groaning into harry’s delicious mouth, tightening his grip on harry’s lose, silk shirt.

one of his favourite things about harry? he is an incredible kisser. he can be a soft kisser, a hard kisser, a demanding kisser, nothing-but-tongues kisser, a slow kisser which to be fair always make him feel like he will come in his pants (which he, still embarrassed to this day, does and harry kisses all his screams), but his favourite kisses are the _harry_ _kisses_. the kisses where he feels his arms and legs turning into jelly, his bones turning to liquid, his brain dizzy and foggy and his entire body melting in harry’s touch.

“fuck! yes, okay. you can. but 90 not 99?”

harry bashfully smiles at him, nodding. “thank you.”

“this is the last time we’re having date night at your house,” he says wagging a finger at harry, “look at what you’re making me do.”

“you said you wanted to spend time here, i don’t know why when we could’ve gone to the four seasons.”

“that’s for next friday, asshead. and i wanted to see more of your mansion. like this music room, so amazing. i thought your home theatre was the best thing but this,” he takes a long sweep at the glass window overlooking the night sky, “this takes the cake.”

“my bedroom is pretty amazing.”

“mckenzie’s bedroom isn’t bad either.” harry shoots him a glance. “joking.” just then the mansion speaker’s go off with the head chef announcing to louis specifically that the ingredients have been bought. “goodie.”

“what does he mean?”

standing up, louis tells him, “you’ll see. this is the reason also why i said we should’ve our date here at your place. you’ve got the best kitchen i’ve ever seen.”

“we’re cooking?” asks harry as they head to the ground floor, where the kitchen is located. “as i recall the last time you cooked, you burned your face with chilli. and milk.”

louis chuckles. “that is true but this time i’m cooking with you so the chances of me putting my head in milk to squelch my burning eyes is zilch.”

“what are we cooking?”

“you’ll see.”

**=      =    |   =      =**

“yum,” harry hums as louis sets his plate of food before harry on the glass table. louis places his own plate down on the table and pushes his seat forward, ignoring his napkin. “napkin, louis.”

“why?” he groans.

“because you asked me to help you on proper dining,” he says to his boyfriend who actively rolls his eyes at him. “and at least you didn’t serve red wine.”

“that was once, styles. once. and now i get to live with this torture for the rest of my life?”

“that’s what you get for serving red wine with chicken.” he takes a sip of his white wine. “chicken, louis, _chicken_. i can’t believe i call you my boyfriend,” he mutters under his breath.

louis knocks his chin with his foot under the table, earning an audible, “ow!” and looks out to his left. they are eating dinner on the roof of the mansion –something harry has actually never done – with the large, dark blue sky lighting their dinner. for dinner, they had cooked, with the help of harry’s chef, a simple chicken pasta salad and louis did not end up burning anything and harry, for once in his life, got his hands dirty in the kitchen.

“we should do this more often,” harry says, dragging louis out of his daze at staring at the expansive backyard that seems to never end no matter how hard he looks. “it’s much more intimate than dining at a restaurant.”

“butter, you mean?”

“i think we can safely say that butter is not for us,” laughs harry. he picks up his dinner fork – to his left – and his dinner knife and digs in.

“stop!” louis screeches and harry startles. “we have to say grace.”

“say what?”

“grace. a prayer to bless this food that we are about to eat,” louis says. harry stares for a moment then places his utensils down and allows louis to take his hands above the table as he says grace. “amen,” he finishes. “enjoy.”

“you too,” harry says, digging into his dinner.

“i think this is the best bread roll i’ve ever eaten,” groans louis, munching on warm garlic bread. “you can be honest with me, do you dip it in liquid diamonds before eating it?”

harry laughs, shaking his head. “it’s not _that_ tasty.”

louis scoffs. “it’s a ten-out-of-ten, styles. a ten. and not many restaurants in this fooking city that rains all the time has this good garlic bread.”

“you know what’s a ten-out-of-ten?” asks harry and louis shakes his head, chewing on another garlic bread roll. “this date.” louis’ cheeks color. “i think this is the best date night we’ve had and the best one i’ve ever been on. and i’ve been on plenty.”

“stop,” louis shyly murmurs.

“i’m serious,” he picks his wine glass to his right and takes a sip, “it’s the best one. the sky is wonderful, the food is delicious and i can actually pronounce it, the wine impeccable, and the company,” he gazes longily across the table at his boyfriend groaning over good bread rolls, “is timeless.”

louis’ cheeks heat and he tries to hide them behind his glass of coca cola. “thank you,” he whispers. he clears his throat as he takes another bread roll. “what were you up to today?”

“i finally found those stupid quizzes on economics that i’ve spent the entire week looking for,” he says, fork and knife clutched in his hands. “so i’m going to ace my quiz on tuesday.”

“is this the class you’re sharing with malfoy?”

harry shakes his head. “he’s in the other higher level class. i’m with zayn and taylor, just like the stupid paint club, which did you know he changed the club name to painter and artist provocateur club?”  louis laughs out loud. “that man is… honestly i don’t know the word to describe. i would say the self-confidence of kanye but not even kanye is as confident as painter lockhart the great is.”

“painter who?”

“that’s what he calls himself. painter lockhart the great,” he says, mocking painter lockhart the great exaggerated american accent. “i can’t even call him by his proper name which is actually lockhart. great lockhart.”

louis stops chewing. “you’re fooking joking!”

“dead ass b.”

“di—did you just say _dead ass_?” louis laughs. and laughs more that food flies out of his mouth and onto the table. he beats his chest, choking on his food, and reaches quickly for his glass of coke and gulps down. “you’re killing me styles, literally. you are lowkey ghetto.”

harry shrugs. “i heard zayn saying it at paint club this week and i googled the meaning online.”

“urban dictionary?”

harry nods in confirmation. “urban dictionary. it’s the second best website globally for us white people.”

louis frowns at him. “racist.” and harry shrugs at him. “pornhub is the first.”

“what?” harry sets down his utensils beside his dinner plate. “pornhub is definitely not the best website on the internet. it’s clearly yves saint laurent.”

louis snorts into his meal. “yeah, right. what exactly do you do at paint club?”

“we actually rarely paint. we basically look at art and painter lockhart the great goes on and on for hours about what the painting means to him then in the end dismisses the painting saying it is rubbish and does not deserve to be in the british museum, mark troy’s gallery or his.”

“you talk about my biological father’s gallery?” louis asks curiously.

“yes, we do. he has amazing pieces in his gallery. and bloody expensive,” adds harry in disbelief. “well, i knew that when i got you that painting of the tree house but i didn’t pay for it so i wouldn’t know but _still_. your father is insane.” louis occupies his mouth with pasta. “do you ever visit h—”

“no.”

“alright. just asking, that’s all.” harry sips his wine. “do you ever want to own your own gallery?”

louis narrows his eyes and they pierce at harry. harry squirms in his seat and gulps his white wine. “no. why would i do anything to associate myself with him?”

“it was ju—”

“no, styles. i want nothing to do with my biological father.”

he clears his throat. “then what do you want to do?”

“i’ve been thinking about it, to be fair.” he abandons his dinner plate and takes a scrumptious bread roll, taking a large bite into it. “it’s funny how the closer i get to graduating the more confused i am about what i want to do with my life.”

“welcome to my life.”

“i mean, i have to decide in about the next nine months what i want to do that will set the path for the rest of my life. the _rest_ of my life,” louis stresses. he tears the bread roll in half. “when you think about that for a long time, it dawns on you that you can’t mess it up.”

“you’re allowed.”

“would your family allow you to make a mistake?”

harry swallows. in a dry narrative voice he says, “my life is basically written already. graduate from high school, hopefully be the valedictorian, with nothing but as. graduate from harvard with nothing but a 4.0 gpa, and sit in a black chair governing my father’s companies.” he sighs. “except so much has changed in my life this year that i don’t even know what will happen next year.”

“what do you mean?”

“i was meant to propose to taylor next year when we graduate from high school but that isn’t happening. i did not get accepted into yale by my own merits and i found out that the only reason the dean at harvard gave me a chance was because he was doing taylor a favour.” he sips from his wine glass slowly, savouring the taste of exquisite wine imported from france. “i don’t even have straight as.”

“does anyone?”

“liam.” louis’ jaw hangs. “i know, right? he’s the only one in our year that has nothing but as on his reports.”

“but life is more than grades.”

“not when you want to attend an ivy league.”

“you got accepted into nearly all of the ivy leagues in america – even if we don’t count yale or harvard – you still got accepted into all those and that is saying a lot, butterfly. that’s impressive.”

“i always thought that i’d go to harvard, follow my father’s footsteps, gemma’s footsteps because generally the styles always go to harvard. but now i don’t even know i want to go there.”

“where do you want to go?”

“my father would kill me if he heard me say oxford,” he dry chuckles. “he’d skin me alive, then my mother would drink the weekend away saying i was wasting my life away by going to common universities.”

“oxford is not common!”

“to my family it is,” he says dryly. “but that’s somehow the best part.”

“how is it the best part?” wonders louis. “your father removed you from the board and you recently found out why you got accepted into harvard university.”

“because i don’t give a shit,” he says, feeling liberated. “i don’t give a shit,” he repeats, his eyes gazing up at the night sky. “and my parents can go fook themselves. it’s my fooking life and i can do what i want.”

“which is?”

harry sits up, bouncing in his seat. “that’s the best part. i can do anything. my father wanted me to do neurobiology, or law just because daddy taylor is a lawyer. then if i did study law there would be two lawyers in the family assuming that the styles and waldorf families would be joined to form one.”

“that’s stupid!”

harry lifts one shoulder up, then down. “didn’t really care then about what i did, i just followed my father’s orders. but now that i don’t have to, i can do anything i want, study anything i want and i’ve never felt more free.”

“you’ve got many choices – from architecture to zoology.”

“zoology is out because i hate animals.”

louis rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “who hates animals?” and asks if harry has a vague idea of what he would like to study in university. he says. “nope!” and asks his boyfriend the same.

“i’m stressed out,” grunts louis. “on one hand, i did want to do architecture because i loved the designing part of it but now, not anymore. then there is no course called “football” so that’s out too.” harry chuckles into his glass and rolling his eyes fondly at him. “dan wants me to be a dentist like him and mama wants me to be in the real estate agent business but selling houses has never been my thing.”

“because theatrics is not your thing?”

“i’m not theatrical.”

“dramatic is right.”

“i’m not dramatic.”

“flamboyant.”

louis stares at harry’s bright yellow polka dot gucci sparkling see-through shirt. “that shirt is flamboyant. and dramatic. and theatrical.”

“what changed then?”

“life changed.” he slides down his seat, propping one foot on the chair. “became stressful, chaotic but somehow blissful,” he gazes with utter fond at harry who blushes under the intense gaze, “but then i thought of music.”

“that’s great.”

“i guess.” harry opens his mouth to comment but shuts his lips. he sees the look in louis, his eyes dazed in the way that his brain is boggled and befuddled and is looking for the right words to say. he patiently waits for him, the soft breeze soothing his warm forehead. “my future is coming soon and i feel as if i’m being pulled in a hundred different directions. assignments, parents, siblings, relationships, university, grades, football, deejaying, fooking life itself. mama is breathing down my neck with university books, telling me that i should have started writing my personal statements, but  i feel paralysed. is that normal?” he looks up from his glass of coke at harry.

harry nods. “it is. you’re not the only one who feels the looming, daunting feeling of graduation next year and the sudden feeling that you’re tiny. small. insignificant.”

“like where you are right now you’re a fooking drop in the ocean of life.”

harry reaches across the table with his left hand and threads his fingers with louis. “but the exciting part is that your life is in the palm of your hand, you can do what you want.”

“that’s so scary.”

“it’s not. it’s fooking magnificent – like looking at the milky way for the first time. breathless.”

“i feel like i haven’t done anything in my life to help with my future.”

“i always say,” he says, his smile slowly growing and his thumb brushing on louis’ knuckles, “that you should get it all. everything. take, take, take. imagine having everything you ever dream of – getting the university of choice, getting your dream career, getting those straight as like liam—”

“yeah right.”

“you gotta believe it because you want it all. you need to tell yourself, ‘i want it all.’ and that ‘bigger is better and better is bigger!’”

“what a motto.”

“to become a superstar dj to perform at tomorrowland, you need to climb certain stairs to get to the stop stair which is tomorrowland, right?”

“yeah but i don’t want to be a dj my whole life.”

“it’s just a start, angel. i’m not saying that you should choose one path and stick to it. i’ve often found that changing your path and taking a new one isn’t wrong, nor right, it means whatever it means to you.”

“let’s say that i do want to be a dj,” starts louis, his hand tingling with harry’s thumb brushing on his knuckles, “i’d love to improve my skills by attending juilliard’s school of music.” harry squeezes his hand. “but, how do i begin?”

“by downloading an application form.” harry breams at him. he suddenly gets up from his chair, lifting it not dragging it, and holds out his hand. “come on. we’ve got lots to do.”

“what? what is _we_?”

harry grabs his hand and pulls him out of his seat. “we’re applying you to juilliard’s.”

louis gapes at his glowing boyfriend. “harry, we’re not applying to juilliard’s now. it’s date night and we’re not spending it reading through the—”

“it’s no trouble at all, angel. i’d love to.”

ten minutes later, they find themselves in the study room, sat in front of a large apple computer. louis has the keyboard on his lap as harry has his hand on the mouse, clicking into google’s search engine. louis types ‘the juilliard school application process’ and harry clicks on the first link.

“zero points for website design,” louis snorts looking at the school’s website on harry’s large, large screen. “looks like a template.”

“white and blue are classic colors, you can never go wrong. dance, drama or music?”

“do i look like i can dance?” laughs louis. “music.” harry nods, clicking on the ‘music’ link.

reading from the website, he asks, “bachelor of music and diploma, right?” louis nods and he clicks on that link. the next moment he feels warm air on his jaw then a pair of lips pressing to his jawline. he turns his head to louis with half-lidded eyes.

“thank you for doing this with me.”

he presses his lips to louis, lingering for a moment. “of course. anytime.” he turns his attention to the website. “now let’s see what juilliard’s requires….”

 

**=      =    |   =      =**

stretching his hands above his head, he purrs like a cat. he stretches his legs as far as he can and he can barely reach the ends of the large bed with either his toes or nails. he arches his neck, burying the back of his head into the large, fluffy pillow.

“enjoying yourself?”

louis turns to his left to find harry standing at the foot watching him through half-lidded eyes with amusement. he is donning spongebob pj pants that louis got for him as a present two months ago.

“one thing you put your money into is a good bed.” he lets out a comforting groan, his arms and toes cracking just right. “how do you ever get out of bed?”

harry just laughs as he slips into bed, ruffling the sheets and pulling them around his hips as he lays his head on the white pillow, facing louis with a fond smile. louis is in the same position, his left hand underneath his own white pillow, and takes a long breath in.

“why aren’t you a stereotypical rich brat?” he asks, out of the blue.

harry smirks. “because i don’t want to be a brat?”

“you know what i mean though? like, you don’t throw lavish parties like niall’s, you don’t own a horse like zayn but a _fish_ , you rotate your expensive cars unlike liam who has a new model each week. the only time you act like a rich brat is when you shop for clothes and your ridiculous boots.”

“heeeeey!”

“or even our dates,” he continues, “our dates are normal and from where you’re coming from  can see at times that you just wish you could throw money on the dates we go to. like today, you’d have probably shut down the london aquarium if given the chance—”

“by you,” harry cuts in.

“why?”

“well,” he fish mouths momentarily, “i did at first. i was like all of them, throwing money without a care in the world – and why not? i had class and expensive tastes, i had to indulge. but then i met you and you were somehow happy without much money in your life. you had a smile on your face, laugh on your lips, love seeping through your hugs, kisses on jaws and horrible jokes—” he shrugs against the pillow, his eyes looking past louis. “i found comfort in watching _adventure time_ , eating burgers and curly fries, in having a heated discussion on why vases  are better gifts than snow globes, in sleeping in cotton pyjamas, and driving in benz’s are not as bad as i used to think they are.” he cackles lightly and louis smiles in response.

“they’re sleek.”

“people say that money can’t buy happiness,” he says, his tone grave and eyes boring into louis. “i scoffed at them and said that no, money _can_ buy happiness. i had three bentleys, i lived in a beautiful grand mansion, i had amazing hair that even vogue had to do a special feature on it, i had style, class, and glamor that not many of my friends could quite catch,” he has the brightest smug on his lips and louis rolls his eyes.

“there’s the rich prat.”

“i preferred everything expensive,” he says in hushed tone as if mentally he is reliving those days. “i had a better, newer car than everyone else, when i wasn’t dating taylor, i had a gorgeous girl on my arm -  i could anyway because everyone loves me – and of course they had to be gorgeous, the whole of the uk was looking _at me_. i had new ice, new glass, new watch, new everything.” he pauses his eyes half lidded. “good times, yeah. i’d close my eyes,” his eyes flutter closed, “and imagine what i don’t have and daddy would buy. anything i wanted. needed.”

“must’ve gotten boring.”

“not really because i got everything i wanted. but soon when i closed my eyes i wanted things i couldn’t walk into a shop, point, slide my credit card and it’s in my hands. a million pounds, a million two, more, a hundred more,” his gaze rises to meet his boyfriends’, “none of it made a difference. and it just so happened that’s when i noticed you,” his grin is slowly growing on his face, “and i’ve never wanted to go back to my old life.”

“but don’t you miss it? the glitz and glamor?”

“not all of it. at times i really want to get the new cadillac model, or heck get a custom-made one, but i shake my head and continue driving my old model.”

“it’s not even 6-months old!”

“it’s old, angel,” he laughs. “plus new car models are automatic, i prefer stick cars. much better, especially when street racing with zayn on the highway.”

“you must miss some parts of it?”

“whatever i wanted to keep doing, i still do and that’s fashion. the one thing i’m happy about is that my father has not cut me off completely so i can afford to shop for designer brands. imagine if i had to shop where you shop?” he mock-gasps. “buying tank tops and wearing vans? the horror.”

there are crinkles by louis’ eyes when he laughs. “idiot.”

“i really don’t miss it all that much,” he says sincerely. “honestly speaking. i prefer comforts in life, ones that you offer me and i’d always choose those than these,” he makes a vague gesture around his white-paint ceilings, walls, and carpet-floor room.

“i like your ceiling painting. isn’t that what it looks like in the sistine chapel?” asks louis, eyes floating to the ceiling.

“exact replica. good money spent on it.”

louis turns his head slowly to harry with the help of his boyfriend’s fingers lightly pressed to his subtle. harry scoots closer, his knuckles brushing on his cheekbones, and rides his leg up louis thigh underneath the white sheets. the way his boyfriend is gazing at him, louis’ heart swells with fond. feeling like melted caramel as harry’s thumb grazes along his neck, silent words in harry’s heavy gestures.

“do you know what i love most about you?” he asks, his thumb absently on his cheekbone.

louis is too afraid to move, suddenly feeling harry everywhere: on his cheek, on his thigh, on his stomach pressed against his, his gaze on him as if he is the only one, as if he has always been the only one for harry.

“your compassion is a gift, angel. carry it with you, always.” he stops briefly to draw a pattern on louis’ ‘it is what it is’ tattoo. “the rest of us are fucked up, caught up in our lives that we don’t take a second to look up, extend our hand and hold someone. we’d rather keep both our hands to ourselves.”

“you’re the compassionate one, butterfly.”

harry shakes his head on the pillow. “not true.”

“true, true. you help your disgustingly obnoxious vile friends when they don’t need your help—they don’t deserve your help but you do anyway. i wouldn’t,” he scoffs bitterly, “i’m not their mother!”

harry leans forward and clashes their lips. his breath hitches with the taste of louis in his mouth. he mouths, “i love you so much!” against his lips and kisses him harder this time. his tongue laps on louis bottom lip as his hands flatten on the dimples of his boyfriend’s back underneath his superman  shirt. he opens his mouth wider, letting louis tongue explore his mouth, his teeth, his tongue, the back of his mind singing, his hands tightening on louis hips.

“i love you,” hums louis, his forehead on harry’s. “love you, love you, _love you_.”

harry grins beneath louis, his hands squeezing his smol boyfriend. his eyes glitter and louis falls for him and falls his forehead in harry’s neck. harry holds him, swaying sideways and making happy and giddy noises with his mouth, his neck vibrating against louis’ cheek.

“you’re timeless to me.”

and louis buries his head further in harry’s warm neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am running out of larry photos & gifs for this fic *cries* hope you've enjoyed reading this, this far, honestly means a lot to me, you don't know and next year i hope to update faster and end this story, too. on a good note, though.
> 
> haaapppy holidays (= & see you next year, folks ♦


	73. 0.72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draco confesses about his past and harry helps a little.

_** ** _

> _**in youth we learn; in age we understand** _

 

“i’ll never stop getting used to magic,” says sophia, her nose is pressed to draco’s bedroom window watching mermaids swim across the glass window with magic. “how do you even make these things move? it feels as if we’re under water right now.”

“simple magic.”

“you’re not allowed to use magic.”

“this is first year magic,” drawls draco looking at fu, “so it’s fine to use. the ministry won’t be coming after me.”

“it looks so life-like, draco,” sophia calls out, her nose still pinned to the glass and her eyes catching a mermaid swimming across. “like the mermaids are real.”

“you said you’d show us your kitten tattoo.”

sophia’s head snaps from the enchanted window and turns to draco. “yeah, you did. let’s see!”

earlier in the day, when draco spilled sauce on his shirt, he went ahead to an empty classroom, sophia and fu carrying his extra shirt, and they saw it. they saw a kitten tattoo underneath draco’s ribs. what’s more, was that the kitten tattoo had been moving. _moving_! sophia and fu gaped at it, not believing their eyes as the _kitten was casually walking across his stomach_ , wanting to ask questions but the bell rang and it was time for their 5th lesson.

draco groans. “curse your memory, fu.”

fu simply smiles at him. the two girls sit on the edge of draco’s green-colored bed as he stands before them. he takes a deep breath before tugging the end of his shirt and slipping it off his head and carelessly throwing it to his bed.

sophia, leaning forward, stares at it. “look at it!”

“it’s actually moving.”

“she’s sleeping,” murmurs draco, sliding the pad of his index finger on the head of the kitten tattoo.

“how the fuck is the kitten moving?”

“magic tattoos, of course,” he grins. “i got it in sixth year during the holidays. i had been interested in tattoos for a long time after my best friend, blaise, had been getting his own so i said i’d get one with him. i didn’t know what to get but i knew that i wanted an animal. so, i told harry what was his favourite animal—”

“and he said kittens?” coos sophia, leaning so forward to watch the sleeping tattoo on draco’s skin. “he has good choices.” sophia looks up at draco. “can we touch?”

“please?”

draco looks to fu, then sophia, then rolls his eyes. “absolutely not.”

“why not?” sophia pouts.

“because it’s creepy.”

“how is it creepy?” sophia asks, staring at the cat sleeping on draco’s skin. “it’s just a tattoo.”

“if you promise not to ask ever again,” draco demands.

“do you know who you’re asking?”

draco winks at fu. “almost forgot.”

“please, draco,” sophia pleads and practically jumps off the bed when draco rolls his eyes, nodding, and her fingers touch draco’s skin. her finger lightly grazes on the sleeping kitten’s head and it moves – sophia yelping and fu backing slightly away from his body.

“that was fascinating.”

“does it ever wake up?” asks sophia. and before draco answers, she pokes the kitten in the stomach.

“sophia!”

“ow!” draco groans. “that was painful.”

“does it?” asks sophia, unfazed.

“it was awake when you saw me change but it mostly sleeps.”

 

minutes later, sitting around at a large, old circular table, with draco’s shirt back on because _if the kitten wakes up i’ll tell you sophia!_ they are munching on pizza.

“hawaiian pizza is the worst pizza in the world,” scowls draco. “i can’t believe we listened to your advice on pizza.”

“hawaiian is the best pizza!” sophia defends, and takes a large bite to prove her point. “it’s the greatest.”

“you know what, i can’t eat this anymore.” draco throws his pizza piece back into the large box and wipes his hands on the napkin. “i’m ordering out.”

“c’mon, fu,” pleads sophia, chewing hungrily on her pizza, “you’re always on my side on these things.”

“not this time, sophia. i don’t like cooked pineapples.”

“who doesn’t love cooked pineapples?” asks sophia aloud and she can feel draco’s glares digging to the side of her face, “besides two people who don’t know good pizza?”

“talking about yourself, are you?” drawls draco. sophia responds by eating a slice of pizza and a smile from fu, her eyes twinkling between draco and sophia. “i’ve ordered another sort of italian cuisine.”

“so are we really going to be ordering every single dish under this earth?” questions sophia. “i mean last week we finished swahili dishes, then this week is italian.”

“yes. i need to try every cuisine before i go back home,” says draco.

“i think draco enjoys trying out cuisines.”

draco nods at fu, smiling at her twinkling eyes. “that’s right,” he says, “and we are not trying indian no matter how much you plead, sophia.”

“indian is the tastiest cuisine in the world. and hey, when will do french?” asks sophia, chewing on her beloved cooked pineapple pizza.

“when you stop chewing like a cow,” drawls draco, making a face. “are you really enjoying the pizza or making a point?”

“both, probably.”

draco grunts, watching sophia’s lips chewing heartedly.

sophia rolls her eyes. “i love hawaiian. and cows,” she adds as an afterthought. “what the hell did you even order?”

“pasta. and cheese.”

“what?” gapes sophia.

“stop simultaneously talking and chewing,” groans draco, throwing a napkin at sophia’s face. sophia sticks out her tongue at him instead.

“as we wait, can you tell us a little about harry potter.”

sophia nods, agreeing with fu’s suggestion. “she’s right. we don’t know much about harry, save from you two being together despite everyone’s surprise and disbelief that you two would never make it. oh, and he was killed by this voldemort dude.”

draco rolls his eyes, toying with the phone in his hand. “what do you want to know?”

“not the romantic stories between you two, but rather who he was as a person.”

draco leans back into his chair and slowly draws his gaze to the three-quarters full pizza box. “he was famous, even when he didn’t know it.”

“what do you mean?”

“in our world, he is the only person to ever survive a killing curse. and the only person who basically seemed to be stronger than the dark lord – at the time. and then suddenly he disappeared, i don’t know where he went, but he did, and only came back when he was elven.”

“when hogwarts starts?” asks sophia, taking in a new slice of pizza.

“he was known as the boy who lived, because really, he lived. nobody survives the killing curse, but he did. twice in fact,” he adds.

“your boyfriend is lucky, draco,” grins sophia. “tempting fate, is he?”

“it was his destiny to defeat voldemort,” says draco, then cringed. “i can’t believe i said that without chocking myself.”

“but true nonetheless?”

“yeah, true. professor dumbledore was an absolute dick. an intolerable dick but for some reason harry was fond of him, looked up to him like a father-figure. i guess in the wizarding world he was because both his parents died. killed by voldemort,” draco answers the question on the tip of sophia’s tongue.

“why do you not trust dumbledore?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you implied it,” points out sophia.

draco sighs. “it’s one of those… hunches you get. the inkling feeling in the pit of your heart, knowing there is something wrong with someone. he was fishy. his eyes were constantly twinkling, glittering, with a small, sly smile like he knew the future, knew what was going to happen.”

“and did he? or did he prove you wrong?”

“he knew about harry’s destiny to kill voldemort,” he says, wincing involuntarily and fu sees it, blinking in surprise because how had she never seen it before? “he was the one who was to kill volde—the dark lord, it had to be him, no one else, because a part of the dark lord latched onto harry when he was a baby. it’s the only reason he could talk to snakes.”

“he can talk to snakes?” gawks sophia, her eyes bulging, same as fu though less comical. “fooking hell! can magic people do everything?”

draco shakes his head. “it’s not normal, even in the wizarding world, to talk to snakes. he was also the only one who could be in the dark lord’s mind, too. they were oddly linked and it annoyed harry to bits.”

wanting to change the subject, seeing as draco’s voice is getting hoarse and his eyes permanently cast on the half-empty pizza box, sophia asks about the aftermath of the war.

“what do you mean?” asks draco, his drawl back and both girls know their stubborn, pointy draco is back. “harry killed vo—the dark lord, we celebrated, taylor kidnapped him and brought him here. what’s to know?”

“you said your father was killed.” draco’s eyes lock with fu’s calm ones. “you said that he went to azkaban, the wizarding prison, where dementors exist.”

“it’s true my father was taken to azkaban, as well as many others who fought on the side of voldemort,” he says, wincing and fu most definitely knows the name carries a negative connotation to it. “but some got less time than others, including my father. for some reason, i went to see him in azkaban.”

“what about the dementors?” asks sophia, surprised. “didn’t you say if a dementor comes close it sucks your soul? you suddenly feel cold?”

“it’s true, they do. but it’s part of the package of being a prisoner. accidentally, i came in close contact with one and for a split second the world seems cold, all around me as if someone dropped ice cubes down my spine. the prison itself is cold, but you feel as if you’re in the depths of the ocean, no sun, no warm, nothing. then you feel it all the sad, sorrowful things, moments of your life are left within you, and that’s all you have.

“that’s horrible.”

“it is. and even if i left my father, my family, i still felt uncomfortable that he was in the prison. harry could tell.” he sipped on the sprite, wetting his throat. “so, during my father’s hearing, he spoke up, said that my father was under the influence of the dark lord and he shouldn’t be punished for life because of that. being under the dark lord’s command, you have no free will. you have to do his bidding.”

“you must have been happy he got out,” sophia glees. “able to see your father away from that place.”

draco’s eyelids flutter shut, his left hand clenching, then unclenching a moment later. fu watches him closely as sophia frowns at draco who seems to have fallen asleep in her eyes. she is about to comment when draco opens his eyes.

“my mother was ecstatic,” he smiles, but it is empty, “she was jumping up and down at the news that my father was going to be a free man. i told her not to be too happy because people still hated my father for the role he played in the war and even _before_ that. she woke up before dawn, getting ready, getting the manor ready for his arrival, she did not stand still until it was time to pick my father. i chose to remain at the manor as she went to pick him up.

“he looked pale. his eyes sunk in, his cheeks hollow as if he hadn’t eaten for days, his lips drained of any colour, his hair thin, so thin with a single pull it would all fall off, and his hands,” he runs his fingers through his white-blond fringe, “his body was—skin stretched over bones. a powerful, influential man from an old family ruling that ruled the french earth and seas for centuries and now he, part of that powerful family, was simply reduced to skin and bones.”

sophia reaches out and clasps draco’s hands with hers. she is surprised by his cold skin and goes on to squeeze tightly.

“he didn’t change. he didn’t become who he was, he was still skin and bones. life was moving on; harry and i got serious, we started our respective jobs -  him as an auror, i was being trained to take over the malfoy businesses – my friend pansy got into hers, blaise,” he lightly chuckles, “married immediately.”

“why’s that funny?”

“it sort of runs in his family,” he says with a small smile that leaves his lips as soon as it appears. “we all moved on, what with the war over, but my father remained the same. always stuck in his study. harry suggested i bring a healer, you call them doctors i think – to make sure my father was not affected by the dementor’s kisses. my mother and i refused flatly because he was fine.”

“but you had a hunch your boyfriend was right.”

draco nods at fu’s guess, his hand still clasped by sophia’s on the table. “we take care of our own, fu. we don’t involve outsiders into our family like flees,” he says, his tone dripping with disdain. “but i couldn’t help but think he was right. my mother and i worked day and night, feeding him, clothing him, washing him, medicines and all that. my mother took him to her large garden for the sun and also because she was proud of her garden. we also made sure every room he went to was warm, including the floors he walked on were warm, absolutely nowhere was it to be cold.” sophia and fu nod in understanding. “nothing, absolutely nothing, brought back the father i knew.”

“being in azkaban  changes you, you said so,” says sophia, “obviously your father would be different.”

“the man who came back wasn’t your father.”

“i didn’t know my father properly because i left him a long time ago,” answers draco. “but i noticed he wasn’t himself even if no one else did. i did not see the light in his eyes, i saw how he would stare at an open book without reading, as if he fell asleep with his eyes open, how eating a simple meal would be torture for him, how the crinkles by his eyes and corners of his mouth never appeared. he didn’t even bother to scold me, which i never thought i’d miss.”

“when did he die?”

“fu!” sophia exclaims, turning to face her. “how can you ask such a thing?”

“how did you know?” draco asks fu instead. sophia’s mouth falls, her head switching between the two as if watching a tennis match. fu shrugs with one shoulder, her lips mum.

“just because i walked out on my family didn’t make it any better,” he says, his voice heavy, his eyes looking distant, as if the words are weighing heavily inside him. despite the last words he spoke to his father, draco still feels his heart ache every time recalling the moment. “it was after my date with harry, he dropped me home and said we’d meet the following day. i made my way to my room, changing my clothes, and walked to my father’s study. he said i needed to sign some forms letting me own one of the malfoy banks.

“i knocked on the door but there was no answer. i knocked and knocked, tried the door knob, it wouldn’t budge. i tried opening it with magic, tried every curse, every chant, everything known to a wizard but the door wouldn’t budge. then the door knob turned, abruptly. he was on fire.”

“what?” asks sophia confused. fu gasps lightly and sophia asks again what it is that the two of them are thinking.

“his father set himself on fire.”

sophia eyes bulge out of her sockets at fu. she turns to draco, desperately holding his hand and shaking her head. “please tell this isn’t true. please tell me you’re lying.”

“sophia.”

sophia opens her mouth and closes it like a fish out of water. “i’m so sorry, draco,” she says sincerely, both her hands warm on draco’s right hand.

“the feeling of the floor falling beneath my feet felt so real, so powerful, even if i denounced him as my father. i felt i was being stabbed watching him burn, the flames eating him, faintly hearing my mother cry and curse somewhere near me, desperately trying to put it out, but it was no use. it was magic fire, meant to burn until whatever it burns turns to mere ashes.

“everything after that  was a blur. one minute i was watching him burn, the next i was staring at ashes on the floor, my mother desperately scooping them in her hands as if.” he paused, shaking his head of a horrible flashback. “i remember vaguely my mother shaking me, her head on my shoulder as she cried, then harry was suddenly there, aurors were there, investigating what happened but it never mattered because i couldn’t move.”

“was harry close by?” asks sophia worriedly.

“he was, merlin bless his soul, he was,” says draco. “he was there for me the whole time. he helped my mother choose flowers and the coffin, he held my hand tightly when i went for meetings that needed my signatures, and for the actual funeral, he never left.”

it is as if the memory of that day, or those last few days, that weigh heavily on draco’s eyelids that tears roll down his naturally pale skin. sophia screeches the chair behind her in a hurry and wraps her arms around him, burying her nose in his hair. fu is not far behind by holding his hand, tightly. he mutters, through throaty cries, that he terribly misses his harry, his dead father, his lonely mother, his ever-present friends, his _magical_ world. he misses everything, absolutely everything, and—

draco buries his face in sophia chest, as if embarrassed to be crying like a little boy. but at the same time he feels safe, here in sophia and fu’s companies, trusting them not to tell anyone, but really, because he considers them as his friends.

and also, the small inkling that wherever his harry is, his spirit is smiling at him, despite his tears.

draco calms down, with heavy exhales through his lips, and lets out a nervous laugh. “th—that was embarrassing.”

“nonsense,” sophia holds his wet cheeks in her palms, “crying should not be embarrassing. it’s normal, no what society says about boys not crying.”

“i’m not a boy,” huffs draco but fails miserably because he is chuckling, watery, and attempting to wipe his cheeks.

“you’re a boy with horrible taste in pizzas,” jokes sophia.

“as if!”

fu’s eyes twinkle as they continue bantering between them but also she feels draco is quite lonely, by choice, actually, not because it happens that way. sophia whacks the back of draco’s head because he says that pineapples are the worst sort of fruits. fu has a small smile spreading on her lips because it is perfect.

she does not believe in fate, or the constellations, but it is more than a coincidence that draco’s boyfriend and louis’ boyfriend have the same name. not only that, but their kindness and warmth and positive vibe.

yes, it is no coincidence but she is glad that harry is making the effort to be friends with draco because he is going to need harry’s warmth before he sinks himself.  


**=      =    |   =      =**  
  


 “what’s this?” asks malfoy with a perfect eyebrow arched.

harry is standing in the doorway, holding what looks like a box of dvds and, suddenly, fu and sophia look as if they are leaving, if bundled in coats and handbags are anything to go by.

“sophia called, said you haven’t watched _how i met your mother_ yet and that is a sin,” chuckles harry. “so i brought the entire season with me.”

“what’s _how i met your mother_?” asks malfoy dryly.

“that’s what he’s here for, draco darling,” sing songs sophia. “now you stay and watch and we’ll be heading off.”

“will you be safe?” asks malfoy. harry smiles upon seeing fu’s eyes twinkle and sophia surprising malfoy with a sudden hug. “what’s with you and hugging me?”

“aww draco darling, you do have a heart in there,” sophia coos, her words muffled slightly by burrowing her face in draco’s chest.

“hush it.”

“goodnight, draco!”

“night fu.”

“so,” says malfoy, walking further into his mansion, “what did sophia say exactly on the phone?”

“that you really haven’t watched _how i met your mother_ and to be honest neither have i. you do have a really big house—”

“castle,” corrects malfoy.

harry rolls his eyes to malfoy’s back. “ _castle_. who even lives in a castle in this century? we don’t live in the victorian times, malfoy.”

“the malfoys don’t live like commoners,” — here malfoy turns to sneer at him — “so we make sure that we remind commoners that they’ll never like up to the likes of the malfoys.”

“you’re unbelievable, malfoy. and we’ve been walking for bloody hours, where the hell we are going? or are you leading me into the dungeons?”

“yes.”

“yes?” harry pauses along a long, slightly dark corridor. “what do you mean by ‘yes’?”

malfoy slowly smiles and it sends shivers down harry’s spine, and not just because the air is chilly. “the dungeon has the better viewing for films.”

“films? people say cinemas, movies—”

“commoners.”

“why do you have a dungeon anyway? did the malfoys use it to torture people in 1692?” jokes harry.

“har har. didn’t take you for a comedian. though your last name is funny.”

“who’s the comedian now?” harry says dryly. malfoy makes a sharp right turn and they enter a room with green brick walls with no windows. “you know what, i really do think your great-great-great-great grandparents tortured people in here.”

“why?”

“where are the windows?” harry asks, pointedly looking at the bare walls.

“there are no windows in cinema halls,” he says as a matter of fact. his first time to a cinema with sophia and fu he had constantly sulked and whined firstly because there were no windows, it was a health and fire hazard, and what were those white fluffy buggers that people kept eating?

it had been a nightmare.

…that he got to enjoy but he never did admit to either of them. somehow fu _knew_ , but doesn’t she always?

“that’s different. and i didn’t take you for a beanie bags type of person,” says harry making himself comfortable on a neon green beanie bag directly in front of a large white wall where _how i met your mother_ shall be projected onto. harry is starting to think malfoy is ol’ skool in some ways.

malfoy sits on the other neon green beanie bag beside harry with a considerable space between them. “there shall be no talking,” he tells harry sternly and he can do nothing but nod stiffly. “nor commenting in between.”

“you’re the one who keeps talking during—”

“not true.”

“remember when we watched _hotel transylvania_ and you kept commenting on how dennisovich was a loser?”

malfoy remembers but he will _not_ admit that. he crosses his arms on his chest and scowls, “i asked one question. _one_.”

“then i get one question, too.”

“choose it wisely,” he says and presses play. harry slides down on his beanie, stretching his long, long legs in front of him as the theme song of _how i met your mother_ begins.

“why don’t you let me call you by your first name?” asks harry.

“when i said you get one question, i meant about what we’re watching, not my life,” corrects malfoy. harry reaches for the remote and presses pause. malfoy groans dramatically and harry simply rolls his eyes at him.

“c’mon, tell me,” he urges malfoy.

“none of you deserve to call me by my first name.”

“calling you malfoy all the time is odd. well, not really, but i’d like to, and besides,” he makes himself comfortable on the beanie, “you let sophia and fu call you by your first name from the get go.”

“sophia is the first person who did not look at me like they wanted to snap my head. or torture my mother like i did theirs.”

“you can’t blame them beca—”

“and you did, too,” he continues, ignoring harry’s comment. “and—i told you, i told you countless times you and i can’t be friends because i see the way you look at me.”

“why does zayn get to call you draco?” he asked and the name felt foreign on his tongue… yet so good because this was the second time he has uttered his first name and he would like to keep saying it.

“to be sophia’s friend,” he turns his head to look sightlessly before him, “i had to prove that i wasn’t—that i’m not that person anymore. and i’m not,” he says directly to him. “you still look at me and all you remember is your mother and—”

“and i’ll keep telling you that i forgive you,” he tells him firmly. “a long time ago. i’m not zayn, you don’t need to prove that you’re better; i’m not the girls and boys and school, i’m _me_.” he pauses, holding malfoy’s gaze steadily. “harry. and when you get it through your thick, pointy, proud head, then maybe you’ll rea—”

“alright,” he interrupts, holding his palm at harry. he grabs the remote from harry’s grasp and presses play. “i’ll think about it, okay?”

“good enough for me.” he slides down the neon beanie, muttering something under his breath.

“what was that?”

“i said you’re so much work.”

harry never sees the remote heading straight for his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year folks !
> 
> it's baaaack with this fic, and hopefully i'll finish it before the half of the year *fingers crossed* because i've dragged it for too long now ]= i hope you enjoyed this chapter, more to come with larry drama and now draco thickening plots etc etc ☺ 
> 
> ta ta beautiful unicorns ♫


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